Fighting Chance (A Twilight Fanfiction)
by TheMetaBard
Summary: Edward has a lot of problems. He's constantly living in his adoptive brother, Jacob's, shadow. He's hopelessly in love with the clever, new girl Bella. Oh, and he has cancer. When these problems start to spiral out of control, Edward has to learn to the rely on the people closest to him to give him a fighting chance. (A/U / All Human / M-ish)
1. Chapter 1

**I honestly have no fucking clue what I'm doing with my life anymore. I'm still writing fics for this franchise (which I don't even really like, tbh). This story came to me while I was spacing out at work and I got excited and banged out the first chapter. Idk dude. Let me know what you think, I guess and I'm going to sit and reanalyze my priorities.**

* * *

 _Jacob_

 _August 12, 2016_

"It's not you…"

 _No. No. No._ I chanted in my mind.

"…it's me."

 _Noooo._

I can't believe that this was honestly fucking happening right now. I looked at Leah, sweet Leah. With her short, silk black hair and her pretty brown eyes. The girl who gave me the best summer of my life - was breaking up with me.

One day before senior year started.

And she was using the cliché _It's not you, it's me line._ I honestly couldn't believe that this was happening. We were going to be the power couple. The Bey and Jay-Z of Clallam county. I was having prom king and queen dreams, for godssakes. And she ruined them. Poured gasoline on my dreams and lit the match.

It felt like she ripped out my heart with a rusty box cutter and took a goddamn bite out of it.

"I just think, since we're both going to two different schools and then with me going away for college afterwards…" She chattered, flipping her short hair back with one hand.

 _She's seeing Sam on the side._ My mind went there. She's gotta be. Why would she break up with me so suddenly? Anger ignited in me at the thought of Sam with his moody attitude and stiff sense of humor. _What's he got that I don't have?_

I sighed, squashing the anger, and looked out at the water of the Pacific – the gray sand of First beach, the outcroppings of rocks that broke the surface - letting her finish her little spiel about why we wouldn't work out this upcoming school year on our favorite seat of driftwood. I let my mind wander instead – to mask the hurt and the pain in my chest where my goddamn heart used to be.

This was going to be _my_ year. Not her year. Not Sam's year. Not Quil or Embry's year. _My_ year.

And Edward's year.

I squinted at the thought of my lovable brother – his slightly curly red hair, his freckles, his green eyes filling my mind - and then shoved him out of my head completely. I had no time right now to feel sorry for anyone else but me. _Me_. Number one. The alpha.

Where was I? Oh, yeah. My year. I was going to be the top-fucking-banana. I was going to have all the fun times. Do all the shenanigans. Get in trouble, maybe? Who knows? Definitely go to parties. Big parties. Get drunk, fuck around, go to dances. I deserved it. I needed the high school experience after freshman year - which was a whole fuckin' disaster - and then sophomore and junior year, where I felt like I was just picking up the pieces of a fallout I didn't even cause.

It was perfect. I could be a normal kid, you know, since my family had some semblance of normalcy now. We ate family dinners that didn't get served on hospital trays and hung out with friends at the beach and watched movies in the movie theater instead on the family waiting room television set and slept in our beds instead of the ones at the Ronald McDonald House. _Normal._

So, I deserved – I thought – a normal school year. And Leah was going to be by my side. And now she just had to go fuckin' ruin it. _Ow. My heart._ I sighed again. Did she even know how much girls want me? Just fuckin' look at me. I'm gorgeous. I could get any girl I want. And I chose her. She should count herself lucky.

 _Not completely normal._ I squinted again. Maybe it was grimace. I don't know. If it was normal, we would've gone to high school on the rez, but the sewage tanks flooded over the summer, so the kids were being split between the school in Beaver and the one in Forks until they fixed their shit. Literally.

My normal school year – down the tubes with a line from a _goddamn_ Nicholas Sparks' novel. Oh, well. Maybe I could set my reputation as a James Dean playboy and chase tail for the school year. Just get my dick wet the whole school year. No attachments. I liked that thought.

And then I could help Edward get laid. Lord knows he needs it.

"Alright," I interrupted her soliloquy of how much I meant her and all of that garbage and stood up. "Well, have fun this next school year."

"Jacob!" Leah called. She was the only one that called me that. Well, besides my mom when I would forget to take the chicken out of the freezer for dinner. Everyone else usually just called me 'Jake.'

But, I just ignored her. I didn't even look back. _Bye, bitch_. I thought as I climbed the dune and started towards my car in the parking lot – a red 1995 Mustang Cobra that I completely paid for and rebuilt myself. _My baby_. I named her Leia, after Leia from _Star Wars_. Because the only other thing that looked as good in metal was Carrie Fisher in _Return of the Jedi_.

I drove home. It was sunset and Mom would be pissed if I was home late for dinner. Family dinners were her thing now, even though Dad only showed up to 3/7 of them since he worked such long hours at the fire station.

 _Any sense normalcy._ We clung to it like life rafts, because if there was one thing about the Blacks – we were anything but normal.

I pulled into the driveway of our house – a red brick tract home that were economic and ugly all in one square little package – and killed the engine to my car. My cell phone buzzed in my pocket and I pulled it out to a text from Edward.

 **Can you bring in my hoodie?**

I texted back bitterly – my thumbs double-tapping my phone screen. I was not in the _mood_ today.

 **Come get it yourself.**

I sighed, feeling bad. _Dammit Edward._

I turned around and grabbed it off my backseat – a black hoodie of a band I didn't listen to – because if he was already in our room, then he would have to go through this big production of going from the concentrator to the tank all while sighing heavily and making me feel like dog shit for just not bringing it in. Boy knows how to guilt people, that's for sure.

I slammed my car door and grumbled myself into my house. I was right. I could hear the concentrator running as soon as I walked through the door. And I smelled something coming from the kitchen. _Meatloaf._ My favorite.

"Mom!" I called. "I'm home."

"Okay, hun. How was the beach?" She called back.

"Awful." I muttered and started down the hallway before she could grill me for details that I didn't really feel like sharing.

I could hear music playing from Edward's and I's room. Some sort of indie, electronic, hipster band. _Gross._ I groaned. Edward hated rap and I hated whatever garbage he decided he was into at the moment. It was a cruel cycle of us arguing and then Mom making me relent because Edward was the Cancer Kid and the Cancer Kid got what he wanted because he almost died like three times or something.

I opened the door to a familiar scene – Edward sitting on his level of our shared bunk bed, his keyboard on its stand in front of him, his cannula in his nose, and his laptop open on his bed.

Edward was my brother, even though we looked _nothing_ alike. He was the first and _only_ drop off in the La Push Safe Haven box at the fire station when he was only maybe a day or two old. _A little, dehydrated thing screaming his head off._ My father – being the chief – would say when he would retell the story, tears in his eyes. _I found him and held him and he calmed right down, like he knew he was already home with me, like he knew he found his daddy._

There was a clicking and a slight whooshing noise, with a background of a motor running – Edward's concentrator that delivered oxygen to his lungs through the cannula in his nose. A blue contraption that made its home under his beside table.

His latest round of cancer gave him some party favors in the form of lung tumors. After rounds and rounds of chemo and radiation and a surgery and a near death experience, he was cancer-free but left with a pair of lungs that failed at the only job they were given, hence the supplemental oxygen. _At least he was cancer-free._

"What happened?" He asked. _Click, whoosh_. He saw my face before I could rearrange into something more neutral. He was an excellent people reader. He was the one that alerted me that something was different with Leah and that I might want to be wary of her.

"She broke up with me." I grumbled and used his level of the bed to hoist myself into my bed above him, throwing him his hoodie in the process. Bunk beds were not conducive to someone who was breaking 6'3, but I made do. I rolled onto my back to stare at the poster of Cara Delavigne I tacked to my ceiling. _Now,_ there's _girlfriend material._

He played the first couple of notes of the funeral march on his keyboard in response. "You wanna talk about it?" He asked below me, his voice slightly hoarse from the forced air.

"No," I muttered and then shifted, rethinking that answer. If there was anyone I wanted to talk to – it was Edward. "Yes. I think she's seeing Sam."

I watched his red head pop up at that. Edward was a good-looking guy. Too bad cancer gave him the social skills of a saguaro cactus and enough medical baggage to scare away even the most understanding of girls. He was a ladykiller otherwise with his angular chin and startling green eyes and his ability to have complex conversations about music and art and other shit that girls like. "You think that's why she broke up with you?"

"She _said_ it was because we were going to go to two different schools and she didn't think it would work because we were both going to be so busy."

Edward scowled. _Click, whoosh._ "That's not an excuse."

"I feel used man." I pulled a pillow out from under me and placed it on my face. "I can't even tell if that's what really happened because she's going to Beaver."

Edward clapped my shoulder and then disappeared back down to his level. "Well, you'll have more time to explore the fifty-one flavors of Forks girls. At least until La Push figures their sewage problem."

I leaned over, feeling the bed creak under me so I could pop my head down. "What about you, Edboy?"

He blushed, his eyes darting to Lenny, his affectionately named cart that he had to pull his tank of oxygen in if he wanted to leave the house. He made it a point to cover the thing in Zumiez and band and Supreme stickers to make it look less old-man-who-smoked-for-fifty-years and more seventeen-year-old-kid. But, it was definitely a rolling form of birth control to anyone whose only exposure to cancer was _Grey's Anatomy_. "I think I'm subjugated to wingman this year."

"Don't say that." I said. "It's senior year. You gotta find the Sandy to your Danny."

 _Click, whoosh._ "You say that but I'm quite convinced that that actually only happens in movies."

He started a beat on his laptop and played along on his keyboard. I went back to laying on my back and listened to him play. He sounded like he was trying to figure out the next part of his song – playing the first part and then delving into different scales and melodies.

I cursed the ground Leah walked on, while strategizing how I was going to get Edward laid. He's the only senior that was still a virgin, I was pretty sure.

"Boys!" My mother called. "Dinner!"

I hopped out of bed at the same time Edward stood up. He undid his cannula around his nose to switch to the concentrator in the living room, his mouth opening automatically to get more air. He moved slowly without oxygen, his fingers on the wall of the hallway for support. By the time he got to the dining room table, where our mom set the table with his cannula next to his cutlery, his breaths were wheezy and harsh.

I slid into my chair and Edward took the seat across from me. Our table was made for six. But, Rachel and Rebecca, our sisters, hadn't been home in awhile. Rachel was working at some oil field in Alaska as an engineer and Rebecca was married to a Navy colonel in Hawaii. Both were ten years older than Edward and I and I really only saw them nowadays if shit was hitting the fan with Edward's health. And dad was working tonight at the station.

"So," Mom started as soon as she sat down at the head, flipping her long black braid over her shoulder. "Who's ready for the first day of school?"

"I was," I muttered and stabbed at my meatloaf. _Damn Leah._ Ruined my favorite dinner. Ruined my day. Ruined my life. _I hate girls._

My mother's dark brown, almost black eyes snapped to me. "What happened?"

"Leah and Jake broke up." Edward volunteered as he took a bite of food.

I looked at him across the table, frustration twisting inside me. "Bro." I groaned. I did not want to get into this over dinner. Actually, I wanted to keep my mother as far away from my love life as physically possible. And Edward opened his fat mouth and a gigantic can of worms.

"What? I didn't know it was a secret."

I watched my mother inhale a deep breath. "What happen?"

I motioned to Mom and turned back to Edward. "This is why you keep stuff to yourself."

"Jacob," My mother reproached. "I'm allowed to ask about my children's relationships."

" _Child's_ relationships." Edward corrected his arm coming up on the table so he could lean his face on his fist in self-pity.

I watched my mom's eyes widen at Edward. She didn't really care about elbows on the table, so I was momentarily confused as to why she looked so shocked until her mouth opened. "Is that a bruise?" Her hand snatched over to Edward's arm.

I sighed and went back to eating. I basically disappeared when cancer came into the conversation. Which usually bugged the shit out of me, but I was pretty thankful for cancer rearing its assface this time around.

He twisted his arm around to examine the mark, which looked like state of Delaware and then shrugged. "I bumped into Jake's car the other day." He assured.

"Are you sure?" Mom said, looking like she was about to lose it.

" _Mom_ ," He groaned. He was so excited to be starting senior year at a regular school after spending his high school experience learning from a curriculum on a laptop while being pumped with chemicals. The boy could be hemorrhaging from his butt and that wouldn't stop him from going to school tomorrow. "I'm _fine_. Jake just parks too close to Dad's truck and I was trying to maneuver Lenny and ended up hitting my on truck's rearview mirror."

I sucked in a deep breath as there was a momentary silence that was only filled with sounds of Edward's mechanical breathing. I watched my mother's eyes dart from the bruise to Edward's face. I started counting down in my head. _3…2…1…_

"Any nosebleeds?"

"No."

"You have been feeling bad?"

"No."

"You haven't been feeling tired?"

"I'm pretty tired of this conversation." Edward snapped back, his eyes rolling so far up he probably could see his own brain.

"Edward Anthony Black." My mother's eyes bugged at him and her copper-colored skin flushed red. "This is important."

"I don't need a third degree every time I bump into something, Mom." He retorted. "Not everything is cancer!"

She and Edward glared at each other for a second. I finished my meatloaf and licked my fork. We are arguing over Edward's health. _Must be a typical Sunday evening in the Black household._ I thought to myself sardonically. _At least they're not asking about Leah anymore._

"He hasn't been having night sweats either." I volunteered, trying to diffuse the whole situation before it turned into a shouting match. "I would know if he was."

My mother inhaled a deep breath and exhaled it. She did that a couple of times while she ran her fingers down her braid and collected herself. "Fine. I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions." She pressed her fingers to her temples and picked up her fork. "It's been crazy at work with everyone trying to get their benefits in order before the school year started. I'm a little stressed. Sorry."

"I'm sorry too." Edward mumbled.

"Where were we?" She looked at her plate like it was a problem to solve. "Jacob," Her eyes darted to me.

 _Oh shit._ I thought.

"I almost forgot. Charlie Swan is going to come by later to pick up the Chevy. Can you show him how the clutch sticks?"

"Yeah, sure." I sighed a breath of relief.

"You're getting rid of the Chevy?" Edward asked, his face twisting with disappointment. The elderly truck was supposed to be his car when he got his license. Too bad he was only a month into his learners' permit.

"We sold it to Charlie."

I barked a laugh. "For what? The lint in his pocket?" That old rusty pile wasn't worth the rubber it sat on.

"None of your business, young man." My mother said to me and then turned to Edward. "Charlie needed a car for his daughter and he offered us a fair price. Your father and I thought about it and we think that you could work on your own car like Jake did with Leia."

Edward scowled. "When have I _ever_ shown an interest in cars? I don't even know how to change an oil filter."

"Edward's riding the _bus_ to school." I laughed.

He glared at me from across the table.

"Save your money and buy one, baby. You have your birthday money from Nana. And you can pick shifts up at Applegate's, like Jacob did to buy his car. Tutor? The sky's the limit."

He made a huffy noise and put his face on his fist again. I ran my finger through the red sauce on my plate, watching this exchange like it was the most entertaining thing on the planet. _I guess being the Cancer Kid didn't work this time around._

"Baby," My mother started. "We thought we could take the money and go on a family vacation during fall break? Maybe to Los Angeles? See the Hollywood sign? That would be fun, right?"

That shut Edward up, his face flushing red for a second and his mouth mashing into a thin line. "Yeah," He said lowly. _Click, whoosh_. "Fun."

My mother smile and stood up, kissing me on the temple and then Edward on the top of his head. "You guys got dishes." She said as she started for the living room.

Both Edward and I groaned at the same time.

* * *

 _August 12, 2016_

My garage – my dad liked to kid himself and say it was _his_ garage, but it was _my_ garage – was my safe haven. I swear I spent more time out here during sophomore year than I did in my own house.

I looked around at my small collections of different car parts I had sorted, my bench of tools, my pile of tires. I inhaled the light smell of oil and gasoline. It was my space of organized chaos. And I loved it.

I pulled the elderly truck out of its space and moved it to the driveway where my car usually sat.

 _I'm going to have so much more room now once this hunk of junk was out of here_. My mind jumped to a new project to fill it up – maybe a Volkswagon bug? My mom _loved_ those. I could restore one, make it shiny and baby blue with chrome hubcaps and bumpers. A new engine. I made a mental note to pick up a newspaper and check Craigslist for frames.

It wasn't like this truck was bad. It was _old -_ no power steering, no positraction, no fuel injection. It ran okay otherwise. Not _my_ first choice for cars though.

"Jacob!" I heard my mom call from inside the house. "They're here!"

I watched a Forks Police cruiser pull up to the front. Charlie Swan, the chief of the police and my dad's best friend for forever got out of the driver's side. He was a stocky guy with brown eyes and brown hair. "Hi, Jake." He greeted with a wave.

But, then my eyes moved to the passenger seat and I watched a girl my age step out.

They both walked up the driveway. I took the moment check the girl out. She was wearing jeans and a loose t-shirt and had her long dark hair loose around her face. I was eagerly and surprisingly impressed. She got _hot._

"How's it going, Charlie?" I asked and shook his hand.

"Good, good." He nodded and then pointed to the girl. "I'm not sure if you remember Bella."

"Hey," She greeted with a small wave, her cheeks lighting with embarrassment as she had to look up at me. She was pale, really pale. It made her gigantic brown eyes stand out on her face.

"No, I don't." I answered honestly and gripped her small hand in a handshake. "But, it's nice to meet you again."

"Yeah, likewise." She smiled. "I'm pretty sure we were in diapers the last time we hung out."

"How's Edward?" Charlie asked.

I sucked in a short breath. "Fine." I nodded. I couldn't tell if everyone asked about Edward out of pity or curiosity. Like did they feel bad or were they just snooping. _Both._ I resigned.

"I'm going to see how Sarah's doing." Charlie said to Bella. "If you want to check out the truck?

"Yeah, can we?" Her wide brown eyes turned to me.

"You are excited about this truck?" I asked in surprise.

A smile split across her face. "Yes. Char, um, I mean Dad surprised me with it." She started towards the driver's side. "It's probably the best gift ever."

"Well, I don't know about that." I moved around the back towards the passenger's side. I pulled my phone out of my shorts and texted Edward before I hopped in.

 **Dude, Bella Swan got cute.**

He texted back a moment later.

 **Have fun.**

I groaned. He was still salty over the truck. He didn't even want to come out and say hi to Charlie and he _liked_ Charlie. Instead he changed into pajamas and hooked his lungs up to his concentrator in the bedroom and everything else up to _Call of Duty_ on our XBOX – his way of passive-aggressively letting the house know he was in for the night.

 _Whatever, bro_. I thought. _I gave you your chance._

I hopped into the truck bed and handed Bella the keys. "When you go into reverse, you gotta make sure the stick is all the way over to the right." I pointed over the barren cab. "The clutch is a little sticky and the engine can rattle when it gets cold. Oh, and there's a Nirvana tape stuck in the tape player."

"Nirvana? Nice." She made a sarcastic fist pump.

"Only the best for you." I flirted, letting my smile – my best feature – light up my face.

"What's the gas mileage like?" She asked and pushed her hair off her shoulders. She smelled like strawberries. _Mmm._

"Bad," I chuckled, putting my arm on the back of the bench. "And I wouldn't push it over fifty-five miles-per-hour, unless you want to hear it complain."

She gripped the steering wheel. "This is the _coolest_ thing ever."

I held up my hands. "If you say so."

"It is." She insisted. "It's got history; you know?" She twisted in her seat to face me. "Like, listening to grizzled old men tell war stories with a beer in their hand."

"It is kind of a like a grumpy old dude." I agreed. "You gotta treat it right. Doesn't like change. Complains about everything."

"My grumpy old guy of a truck." She rubbed the steering wheel.

An idea occurred to me. "In the Black family, we tend to name anything that's even remotely sentimental. You should name it."

Her eyes widened at me. "I should, shouldn't I?" She went back to the steering wheel and then played with the gear shift with her pale hand. "What's a good old-man name?"

"Um," I stroked my chin, feeling the stubble that was starting to grow in. "Earnest?"

"Frank?"

"Earl?"

She nodded. "Earl. I think I like that."

I banged on the dashboard and then stroked it like a family pet. "Be good to Bella, Earl." I said to it and let Bella's giggles fill up the cab.


	2. Chapter 2

_Edward_

 _August 12, 2016_

I died. _Again._

"Shit." I sighed under my breath and exited to the lobby, waiting to pick up another match of _Call of Duty_. I was generally pretty good at this game. I was pretty good at anything that I could do while sitting on my butt, not moving. I was an expert at sitting and not moving.

I breathed in a slightly deeper than normal breath out of frustration - an uncomfortable thing to do nowadays. My chest constantly felt tight – like my lungs were too big for the space they were forced in.

I died again. I felt my lower lip insert itself between my teeth as I waited the fifteen seconds to respawn. I got dropped near a broken down building and I maneuvered into it, shooting an enemy in the head.

My thigh vibrated and I looked down at my phone to a text from Jacob, getting shot by an enemy in the process.

 **Dude, Bella Swan got cute.**

I picked up my phone, debating on whether or not I wanted to hurl it at the wall. I sighed and put it back down on my lap. If I throw it, I'd have to go _get_ it and I didn't feel like getting up yet.

Jacob made me _so mad_ sometimes. He didn't even fight Mom when she said that she sold the truck. He _knew_ that the reason they were holding onto it was so I had a car when I finally got my license and he just sat there when she said that they were selling it to Charlie. _Thanks for everything, bro._ I snorted. _Not._

I gripped my phone again and banged the little black rectangle against my forehead in frustration. Now I didn't have a car _or_ a license and I was going to to be forced to be chauffeured around like a _fucking_ kid the rest of my miserable existence. While Jake gets to come and go as he pleased, anytime he pleased, with whomever he pleased.

And now he was outside, _obviously_ way over his last relationship that ended less than four hours ago probably already flirting up Charlie's daughter. I scowled. I couldn't even get girls to look at me besides the usual piqued curiosity/pity that I usually garnered from walking around with an oxygen tank tied to my face.

I pushed the middle button on the controller and turned the XBOX off mid-match, watching the screen go dark to the HDMI screen on our little television set and picked up my phone and texted back.

 **Have fun.**

I forced myself to my feet, grabbed the coiled tubing of my nasal cannula, and moved to the tiny bathroom that Jacob and I shared to get ready for bed. I inspected my reflection as I brushed my teeth, my fingers brushing over the patch of acne on that had bloomed around the tubing that sat on my face.

I ran my fingers through my hair as well, watching the coarse, wavy red stick up as I pushed it around on my head. _I need a haircut._

I took off my cannula to wash my face. It didn't take long for my shitty lungs to notice the oxygen was missing. It was like I was drowning without it. I suddenly felt like I weighed a million pounds, like I was being smothered, like the all the air in the room suddenly disappeared.

I put my oxygen back on so I could sigh and dry my face, because doing anything other than gasping and wheezing without it caused my lungs to objection in pain.

My hand went to my AM/PM pill divider that made its home on the counter next. It was blue and old. I had it since I was twelve. It was a hardened veteran of the war against Edward's failing body. Since I was hitting two years into my remission, there weren't very many I had to keep in there now. Just a couple to help my shitty lungs breathe, help keep my immune system going, etc. I dreamed of the day where I could retire it completely, knowing that would _never_ actually happen.

"You taking your meds?" My mother called from the living room. I could hear _Dancing with the Stars_ play lowly on the television from the living room.

"Yeah, Mom." I rolled my eyes and called back. Of course, I'm taking my meds. Like I had been for the last five years. But, Mom had to ask anyway because I always had to be treated like a _goddamn_ child in this household. I punched my fist onto the counter, watching the pill divider jump and the contents rattle inside.

I sucked in a breath, feeling my tight chest contract with the forced air and dumped Sunday's PM pile into my hand, flipping the little colored tablets and pills around in my palm.

I heard the front door crash open and flinched at the noise. _Jake._ I groaned. _Always making an entrance._

"Bro!" He came to the bathroom doorway, completely filling it with his linebacker frame, his copper skin moist from the drizzling rain outside. "Dude, Bella Swan…" His dark eyes flashed and he held up his hand in an 'ok' sign.

I rolled my eyes and downed my pills. "Like I said," I took a sip of water to chase the bitter pills down. "Have fun."

He aggressively groaned, his shoulder hitting against the doorframe. "Why are you being so _goddamn_ petty?"

"Language, Jacob." My mother called. "And don't stay up too late – _both_ of you. School starts tomorrow."

"Okay, Mom." We both said together.

My palms automatically went sweaty and butterflies filled my stomach at the thought of school tomorrow. I was insanely excited – and insanely nervous – to start school tomorrow. I pushed the anxiety of starting a regular school year as a regular high schooler so I could remain pissed at Jacob for willingly turning over my truck to the Swans. I shoved – not nicely - past him to get back to our room.

"I'm not being petty." I mumbled and sat down on my bunk and picked up my ukulele that sat against my concentrator. _Okay._ I thought as I plucked at my uke. _I was being a little petty._

"It's a scrap pile anyway." Jake said as he dumped out the contents of his pockets onto the dresser and then moved to the bathroom. "You could totally do better." He called.

"It's not the truck _itself_ so much." I said lowly.

He came back with his toothbrush in his mouth. "Then what?"

I sucked in another hard breath, wincing when my lungs protested with the exertion. A nice reminder of how _leashed_ I was. I looked at my brother and I only saw freedom when I looked at his wide brown eyes and high cheekbones. "I just…" I waved my hand. "I don't know. I thought with the truck…" I let my sentence trail off since it was depressing as hell to finish. He got it, I was pretty sure.

He groaned again. "You know I will help you find and fix up a car and with your money from Nana, you could totally find something doable." Jacob said as he started to undress for bed, stripping down to his boxers and kicking his clothes next to the hamper. "You know I'm always down for a project."

I strummed my instrument and chewed on my lower lip, thinking about his offer. Jake was a whiz at cars. And they were his _obsession_. I knew if I could trust anyone, it would be Jake. "Nothing girly though."

Jacob had disappeared to put his toothbrush away and then came back. "Nah, dude. You need something _hipster_ , like you. Like a fuckin' Volkswagon Thing or a Suburu or something. I'll call Harry's tomorrow and see if he has anything worth looking at."

"Thanks, Jake." I said, feeling bad for being such a dildo to him earlier.

"I got you, Edboy." He said with his cheesy grin stretched over his face.

He picked up his backpack and stuck his hand inside. I watched him pull out a pile of papers from the last school year. He jammed them in the small trashcan next to the hamper and stomped them down with his foot. I shook my head. I had my backpack ready for weeks in anticipation of tomorrow.

While I watched Jake pick out a first day of school outfit, (something I _also_ had prepared for weeks) something else chewed at me. This was a familiar feeling of guilt and it ricocheted around my ribcage along with Mom's words from earlier: _we thought we could take the money and go on a family vacation during fall break._ Money. I heard her voice repeat it over and over.

 _Money._ Or the lack thereof in this family. We didn't do _things_ like take family vacations or shop brand name groceries or buy anything other than secondhand for clothes. And even though nobody talked about it, I _knew_ it was because of me and my medical bills. My medications _alone_ cost around eight hundred dollars a month. I hit the wrong note of my ukulele at that thought and winced. And that was just medications. Not my equipment or my refills of oxygen or the testing I had to go through. And I knew insurance covered some of it, but not _all._ Tribe money covered some but not _all._

"Do you think that we're actually going to go on vacation with the money they sold the truck for?" I asked lowly.

Jacob turned from the closet, his dark eyes rolling like orbs in his head. "You need to _quit_ with that, Edboy." He said and stepped on my bed to get into his his. "Seriously. We're _fine_. You know we make it work. It's no big deal."

I put my ukulele down and picked up my oxygen mask, switching to that for bed. I tended to breath through my mouth when I slept and needed the extra air. I flopped on my bunk and set my alarm on my phone and then switched to Facebook, my thumb hitting my mother's profile. I navigated to a photo album titled _Disneyland 2011_ and flipping through the photos. Twice.

We all looked so different. For one – I had straight hair back then. The chemo turned my hair into this crazy messy that I couldn't tame or control anymore. My mother looked younger, _way_ younger. Like all the stress I put on her aged her ten years instead of just five. My dad didn't have the same amount of gray in his hair or lines in his face. And we all looked so happy. Different – we were always a _different_ family, with me the only white kid in a family of Native Americans - but _happy._

"But, we haven't taken a family vacation since before…" I let my sentence trail off, knowing that Jacob would be able to fill in the blanks himself.

"I swear to God, Joan of Arc." He said above me. "I will come down there and slap you."

Despite myself, I chuckled at Jake's joke, feeling a little better. His argument against my guilty feelings was that if we were having money issues, our parents would let us know. They were always pretty transparent about stuff like that. And the fact that _everyone_ was poor on the rez. " _Am_ I being a martyr?"

He snorted. "I don't know whether to burn you at the stake or crucify you."

I rolled and put my phone on my bedside table. "Thank, bro."

"Anytime."

* * *

 _August 13, 2016_

I fiddled with my oxygen tank, playing with the regulator until it was straight, and then hooking it up and turning it on. It hissed to let me know it was pushing air and I switched from my concentrator's cannula to the tank's. I drummed my fingers on the handle of Lenny, the tank's cart that I used to drag the tank around to help my shitty lungs do their shitty job.

I had gotten up thirty minutes earlier than what I had set my alarm to. I spent the morning staring at the picture of Hayley Williams I had taped to the underside of Jacob's bunk and listening to the birds' chirp outside and trying not to have a panic attack over the first day of school.

I hadn't had an official 'first day of school' in two years, since I was hospitalized for the latter half of freshman year and the beginning part of what would've been my sophomore year. I homeschooled my junior year, because I had to squeeze in everything I missed from the time I lost in the hospital.

I was a little nervous. Nervous because we were going to a new school. Nervous because I wasn't the most outgoing of people. Jacob could make friends with a houseplant, he was that friendly and sociable. He made making friends look _so_ easy. I, on the other hand, found my best friends in my mother and my brother and my music.

But, at the same time – I was so incredibly excited. Classes and clubs and pep rallies and football games and band and dances. I felt like I had been cast into _Friday Night Lights_ or _Glee_ or something. I tapped my feet on the tile floor of our bedroom in anticipation.

"Edward," Jake groaned when he burst through the door, his shoulder jamming into the wall on his way in. He had slept in thirty minutes past when he was supposed to wake up and had spent the last twenty minutes rushing around getting ready. His black hair was still wet from his shower.

"What?" My eyes snapped to him.

"Why are you wearing a cardigan?"

I looked at the navy sweater I was wearing over my favorite Streetlight Manifesto t-shirt with confusion. "Because I get cold?" A super duper fun side effect of constantly being underoxygenated.

"Cardigans _don't_ get you laid." He said and shrugged his old, black leather jacket on. Jake always looked like the Quileute version of Fonzi – greasy jeans, white t-shirt, riding boots, and his leather jacket.

I rolled my eyes at him and stood up. "Will you _stop_ thinking with your dick for, like, two seconds?"

His cheesy grin stretched over his face, his teeth brilliant white against his skin. I heard the collective panties of all the girls within a twenty-mile radius drop. "What fun is that?"

"Boys!" Mom called. "Come get breakfast!"

I took off my sweater, but looped it over Lenny, jamming it between the tank and the handlebar, grabbed my backpack, and moved to the living/dining room.

"Smile, babies!" My mother said jammed a sign into Jacob's hands and then stepped back to take a picture.

"Mom," Jake groaned. "We're seventeen, not _seven."_

I leaned forward to read the sign. _Edward & Jake's (and Lenny's!) First Day of Senior Year! Class of 2017!_

"Oh, you know Sue and Emily are going to want to see this at the office." Mom said. "They eat you boys up!" She said, dressed her work outfit – a pair of slacks and a blouse on and her dark hair in her signature braid over her shoulder.

"We're going to ban you from Pinterest." Jacob threatened and put the sign on the dining room table.

Mom rolled her eyes. "Just get together for a nice photo and no funny faces, Jacob William."

Dad, still in his work uniform from the station, just laughed from the couch, Fox News playing lowly on the television set, as Jacob and I squeezed together to humor our mother. I tucked Lenny behind my leg to keep it out of the shot. "Sare, leave 'em alone." He said when he watched our faces twist from mild amusement to frustration when she failed to relent on the pictures after three seconds of taking them. "They gotta go, otherwise they'll be late."

She stepped back. "Oh, okay. Fine." She handed us each a breakfast burrito wrapped in a napkin. "Did you take your meds?" Her black eyes snapped to me.

I nodded and nibbled on my burrito, not really hungry with all the nervous knots twisting up my stomach. "Yep."

"Okay, good." She nodded. "The school nurse has everything – extra oxygen tanks, nebulizer, inhaler, meds, everything." My mother said, her hand cupping my face briefly. "Don't be afraid to go to her if you need anything." She kissed me on the cheek.

"Okay, Mom."

She moved to Jacob and cupped his face. "There's chicken in Bertha," our elderly crockpot. "When one of you guys get home, switch it to warm so it doesn't overcook." She kissed Jake on the cheek, reaching up on her toes to get to his face.

"Can we go now?" Jake groaned.

"Almost." She stepped back and smiled, her eyes glittering. "Look at our big boys, Billy."

Our dad got up from the couch and walked over to our mom, looping his arm around her waist. "You guys stay out of trouble." He said, his finger wagging at us and his eyes dancing with humor. "But, don't stay out of it completely. You _are_ teenagers."

"Billy," Mom thwacked her arm against our stocky father's stomach. "Don't put ideas in their head."

I looked at our family. Our weird little family and smiled. We didn't have a lot. Lord knows we had more problems than we can count, but we had each other. And love. I looked at the picture of me when I was baby on the living room wall and the script-font quote underneath it. _Not flesh of my flesh, nor bone of my bone, but still miraculously our own._ I was stuffed into a box at the fire station when I was a day old by my biological parents, but it was moments like these where I knew I was truly thankful. _Truly blessed._

"Okay," Jake groaned, taking me out of my sentimental feelings. He started to push me towards the front door, almost knocking over Lenny. "We gotta _go."_

"Love you!" She called. "Have a good day!"

"Love you too!" We both said simultaneously as we rushed out the front door.

* * *

"Breathe, Edward." Jacob shook my shoulder as we pulled into the Forks High School parking lot.

I sucked in a deep breath, my lungs protesting hard enough to cause pain. I rubbed my ribs, my fingers grazing over my scar through my t-shirt and focused on inhaling through my nose and exhaling through my mouth.

A bunch of kids milled around the front. I recognized some kids from La Push, their dark skin contrasting against the emerald green of the surrounding foliage. But, most were complete strangers – Forks kids.

I played with my tubing, winding it around my finger as Jacob found a parking space in the student lot. The La Push kids knew me. The Quileute nation was a tribe of about three thousand. Everyone knew everyone, everyone was related to everyone in someway or another, it felt like. We were just a gigantic _family_ , basically. Everyone from La Push had watched me fight cancer since I got it. They _knew._

These _other_ kids, though. I was going to be stared at. I started to freak out, my breathing coming in fast and hard. I dragged around a _goddamn_ oxygen tank. They were going to go after me like vultures on a hyena carcass. I was going to be picked apart. Piece by piece by…

"Edward," Jacob shook my shoulder again. "You okay, buddy? You're doing that thing where you get all wheezy-,"

"I can't do this." I said breathlessly and looked at everyone grouped up into little piles, laughing with their friends. Why was the car spinning all of a sudden?

"You'll be _fine_." He assured and started to get out of the car. "Come on."

He jogged around the front of the car and opened my passenger door, pulling out Lenny from between my legs and offering his hand to help me out of the car. I usually would've balked that I could do it myself, but I was thankful for the support this time around.

He handed me Lenny and I adjusted my backpack before grabbing the handle and tipping it on its wheels. We walked together, the only sounds between us was Lenny's squeaky left wheel and our shoes crunching on the asphalt.

"Jake!" Embry and Quil greeted, bounding up to us as we approached the front door. "Edward!" The both tackled Jacob, who reciprocated by shoving his shoulder into Quil and grabbing Embry into a headlock. Together, they could probably take Jacob, but he was still massive compared to the both of them.

"I'm so glad you guys got Forks." Jacob said and let go Embry when he started to tap himself out on Jacob's shoulder.

Quil pouted. "Yeah, too bad Sam and his gang got Beaver."

"Yeah, well, _screw_ Sam." Jacob turned for the front door.

We walked into the school as a pile, but they picked up their feet and I couldn't keep up and suddenly I was alone in the middle of the hallway - watching Jacob and our friends push and shove and roughhouse with each other, laughing the whole time.

Time it took to be ditched by Jacob? 24 seconds. A new record. This one was for the books.

I pulled Lenny up against my leg and pulled my schedule out of the front of my backpack. I had chemistry first period. I needed to get my books from my locker, first, though. I flipped my schedule over to the map of Forks High school. _Of course_ my locker and the math and science building were on opposite sides of the campus. _Better get moving._

Someone shoved me from behind – a greasy looking kid with black hair – and caused Lenny to tip and fall on the floor. The tank clattered on the tile with deafening, horrifying noise of apocalyptic proportions. I bent over and righted it, catching a group of girls staring at me in the process. One girl, a blonde, leaned over to whisper in the other girl's ear.

I blushed hard and moved as quick as I could towards my locker, keeping my eyes trained to the ground to avoid stares. I could hear the British nature documentary narrator in my head as I walked. _Here we see the lame Edward being circled by the wild pack of High Schoolers or altum academi…_

I found my locker by the time the warning bell rang, signaling I only had two minutes to get across campus. I sighed and pressed my head against my locker for a second. _Well, this is going about as good as I expected._ I thought and pulled my chemistry book out and placed it in my backpack.

I hurried at Edward speeds – which was somewhere between Galapagos tortoise and arthritic grandma – feeling my lungs tighten in my already-tight chest as I forced them to work beyond their capacity.

I got through the door of the math and science building before I had to stop and catch my breath, a cool sweat on my forehead and the world going fuzzy around the edges. I gripped the wall and my chest as I inhaled deep breaths. To a normal person, I probably looked like I just did wind sprints, not casually walked across campus. _Stupid lungs._ I cursed. _Do your job._

The last bell rang, signaling that I was late and I watched everyone disappear around me into their first period classrooms. I pressed on before I had completely caught my breath, pain radiating from my chest. I burst into my classroom, a wheezy, winded, gasping mess.

"Edward Black?" The teacher, a short Hispanic guy leaning again his desk asked, a paper in his hands.

I couldn't exactly form words when I couldn't inhale enough air to power my voice, so I just nodded.

"Are you okay?" He gave me the usual panicked this-kid-is-going-to-pass-out-on-me-do-I-remember-CPR look.

I straightened to squash his worry, my heart rate and breathing slowly finding their rhythms again, and nodded. "Yeah," inhale. "I'm fine." Inhale. "SorryI'mlate." Inhale.

"It's okay, Mr. Black. Take a seat."

I looked at the classroom for the first time and then almost started to gasp for air again. There was about twenty-five face, fifty eyeballs, a billion brain cells all staring at me like I was a car crash they couldn't tear their eyes from. _My worst nightmare was coming true_. I felt heat rush from my extremities to make home right on my face.

It was a science classroom, so all the seats were actually black countertops with Bunsen burners and microscopes sitting and waiting to aid in some scientific discovery. Everyone was divided into pairs at the counters. I quickly identified the only empty seat with the help of the movement the girl sitting next to it. She pulled her backpack off of it and moved her stuff over to her side to make room for me.

I pulled Lenny over and took the seat.

The girl I was sitting next to was pretty in a unique way. She had thick, brown hair that had a natural wave to it, whereas every other girl in this school either flat ironed their hair so it was stick straight or curled it. She was dressed different too – a maroon Grand Canyon t-shirt that had a hole in the sleeve and a pair of black jeans and boots. Like she was telling the world how aggressively she didn't care that it was the first day of school.

She looked at me, her wide brown eyes flicking all over me before landing on where I had parked Lenny at my side. I sighed internally and turned my attention to the syllabus on the counter, the British narrator in my head again. _And now one of the altum academus has found and cornered Edward to start the hunt…_

"Is that a Streetlight Manifesto t-shirt?" She asked.

I felt heat in my face for two reasons. 1) She wasn't looking at Lenny, like I originally surmised, she was looking at my shirt. 2) The logo. It was just a shirt with a streetlight on it with a red circle behind it – the ska-punk band's logo. You would _have_ to know the band to know the shirt and that's why it was my favorite. Which meant, she knew the band too.

I looked at her, probably like she had sprouted two heads. "You know Streetlight Manifesto?" I asked.

She smiled at me. "Yeah, they're one of my favorites." She started rocking slightly. " _I've got a gun in my hand but that gun won't cock_." She sang the first line of Point / Counterpoint, my favorite song.

I started calculating how fast we could get out of here and get to Vegas so I could marry her ASAP. _Wife material_. Jacob would use that when he thought a girl was cool and also hot. There were no better words to describe this girl sitting next to me in first period chemistry.

 _Cool your jets, Edward_. I coached to myself. _Why don't you start with your name and see where it goes from there?_ "I'm Edward."

"Bella," She smiled again and pushed her thick hair out of her face. "Bella Swan."


	3. Chapter 3

_Jacob_

 _October 26, 2011_

I guarded up on Edward's right elbow as he dribbled the basketball and stepped side-to-side and back-to-back. _He's going to fake left._ I predicted as I watched his green eyes scan around, his breathing coming in hard as we played two-on-two with Embry and Quil at the courts in the park near our house.

He went left - like I thought - but instead of going back to the right, he kept going left. He nimbly maneuvered around me, his feet never stopping, and threw the ball. I watched in horror as it deftly landed through the chain basket.

"Yes!" He celebrated with a clap on Quil's shoulder and then pushed his long, corn silk hair that was the same red as copper pennies off of his forehead. "We won. _Again_." He gloated, his green eyes flashing.

My temper flared in me, hot and red in my face as I replayed how he could've gotten around me like that. _He cheated._ He had to. I watched him carry the ball. He failed to dribble. I crossed the short space between us, grabbed Edward by the elbow and shoved him to the ground. "You _cheated_!"

"No," He retorted, his face going red with anger too as he jumped back to his feet. "You're just a sore loser."

I crossed my arms and stepped forward in challenge. _If he wanted to fight, I'll fight._ I wasn't afraid to wail on my brother. He had grown a little, so we were almost the same height now and could match me nose-to-nose. "You wanna go." I felt my shoulders and chest pop forward in challenge.

"You're being stupid." He rolled his eyes and pushed me back. "It's just a _game_."

"Guys," Embry snorted and tried to separate us. "Stop."

I got in one more good shove, forcing Edward back down to the ground, his butt hitting the pavement. He just popped back up again, like one of those clowns that you could punch down and would bounce right back up, ready for more.

Edward sneezed and I watched as red drip out onto his palm. I rolled my eyes and smacked the ball out of Quil's hand, watching it bounce. Edward _always_ got nosebleeds during the dry season. "If you get blood on your shirt," I warned as I watched him tip his head back. "Mom's going to be pissed."

"I know." He said all nasally as he pinched his nose to get it to stop. "I won't."

I looked out at the beach that we lived next to. It wasn't a _fun_ beach. It was only swimmable about ten days out of the year and too cold and choppy the rest of the time. Not like the beaches in California, where they're warm and pleasant. We camped at ours occasionally and that was kind of fun.

Our curfew was the sun halfway over the horizon and it was getting to be about that time. Twilight. We didn't have enough time for another game. _Damn._ I cursed and threw the ball back to Quil. "We should get going."

Embry sighed and looked out at the water as the sun started to make its descent, his black hair blowing in the sea breeze. He had the same curfew. Twilight. "Yeah, me too."

"You guys are pansies." Quil said and bounced the ball to me.

"I gotta get Nosebleed Nelly over here home." I said and threw the ball back. "Before he looks like _murder_ victim."

"Shut _up_." He groaned and righted his head, carefully unplugging his nose. "Look, it stopped. See?" He smacked the ball out of Quil's hands, starting to dribble it around me. "One more to one and then we can go home."

I felt my competitiveness flare up. "You're so _on_."

* * *

 _October 26, 2011_

 _Thwack!_

"Ow!" I screeched as Edward wailed on me – a surprise attack. His pale fists pounded on my back, his face flushed red. I had taken the remote from the living room TV and turned it on to Cartoon Network in the middle of his anime show. "Stop it, Redward." I tried shoving him away, all while keeping the remote at a safe distance above his head so he couldn't grab it.

"Stop _calling_ me that!" He said and snatched my arm and twisted it back. "And give me the remote back!"

I yanked myself out of his grip and ran off, giggling like a hyena the whole time. We played a game of chase around our small house. I somehow ended up cornered, standing on the cup holder of our green couch, my hand pressed against the wall so I didn't fall off the cushion. He picked up our coffee table book on Quileute history and threw it at me. It hit me on the hip. "Ow!"

 _Okay._ My vision turned red around the edges as my temper flared. _That's enough._ I jumped off the couch directly in front of Edward and grabbed one arm in a vice grip and the other went around his neck. I spun around, shoving his head under my arm in a headlock, the remote to the television set still in my other hand. "Say it!" I demanded.

"No!" He said and tried to wriggle away, slippery like a damn fish. I tightened my grip on him.

"Say it!" I squeezed his head with my bicep, hearing him choke under the grasp.

"No!"

All of a sudden, there was a smell of charred wood and then I felt the iron grip of fingers on my neck. I was jerked to the side, forcefully separating from Edward.

"Boys," My dad warned as he pushed us away from each other. "If you're mother sees you roughhousing like this, she'll have both of your asses."

I was spun around to face our dad. He was a man of many lines, his features looked like they had been honed from an ancient tree - like Treebeard in _Lord of the Rings._ His long hair was tied behind his head in a knot.

"Why will I have their asses?" Mom asked with a playful smile as she stepped through the front door, her old purse on her arm and her keys in her hand.

"Jake stole the remote during _Dragonball Z_." Edward tattled.

I punched his shoulder and he winced and rubbed it. "Snitches get stitches." I muttered.

My mother sighed as she dumped her things on the table next to the door. "You guys need to stop _fighting_ so much." She said and kicked off her shoes and then started for the kitchen to start dinner. "Did you guys take the fish out of the freezer like I asked?"

I sucked in a deep breath, vaguely remembering a conversation about that during breakfast this morning. It was quickly replaced with how fast I could ride my bike down the 101.

"Yes, Mom." Edward said. He always remembered to do stuff like that.

"Momma's boy." I snickered.

It was his turned to punch me in the shoulder. I recoiled at the sensation. "Ouch."

"Stop with the violence." My mother groaned. I could hear the old hinges creak as she opened the cupboards. "I _swear_ those video games…"

"Aw, Sare, they're just-," My dad's eyes flashed at Edward and his bushy eyebrows pulled together, who had picked up the lower hem of his shirt to wipe his face. _Ooh. You're going to get it._ I thought as I watched my dad pull the shirt from Edward's grip and yank up, revealing his bare torso.

"Dad, what are you doing?" Edward asked in confusion.

On Edward's chest and stomach was an island chain of bruises. Some were palm-sized, some were smaller. They were all in different shades of purple and red. I got bruises like that sometimes when I got hit too hard with a ball or something. But, not _that_ many. He looked like a dog who just got his spots.

"Jacob William Ephraim Black," My dad said, his normal humorous tone gone. His voice went low and menacing, meant to strike fear into my heart and make my hands and feet go cold and still. "Did you do this to your brother?" He motioned to the bruising.

"What's going on?" My mother came out of the kitchen to investigate why my dad wasn't laughing with his boys – or argued with us over who had control of the television - like he usually did while she cooked dinner.

"No," I squeaked, my eyes going wide. _He thought I put those bruises there?_ Edward and I roughhoused, but I was careful not to _hurt_ him, you know, _badly_.

My dad didn't like that answer. I could tell in the way his black eyes flashed angrily. He dropped Edward's shirt and grabbed me roughly by the shoulder. I cried out in pain from the grip. "Tell the truth, boy, or you're going to get the belt."

"I didn't!" I insisted, panicking over getting the belt. Dad's belt was old and leather and forged by Satan himself to deliver the perfect whip of pain to my bottom.

Dad gripped my shoulder again, his fingers driving into the bone. I yelped like a kicked puppy, anticipating being shoved outside to the backyard to be made an example for the neighborhood - for something I didn't even _do._ I casted a longing, begging glance at him. _Help me._ I thought, looking at his deer-in-the-headlights-expression. _Do something._

My dad froze when my mother entered the living room, her apron on and her arms crossed. We both watched her move to Edward.

"Show me your chest." She said lowly to him.

Edward hesitantly pulled his shirt up, revealing the cluster of bruises again. "Jake didn't do anything." Edward said in defense of me to my mother, who could actually listen to reason when she got mad at us, unlike Dad who only believed _his_ version of the truth.

"Then where did you get those, baby?" My mother asked.

Edward shrugged. "I don't know. They just appeared one day. I thought maybe I slept funny."

Mom frowned and ran her fingers over Edward's pale skin. "Do they hurt?"

He shook his head no, his eyes still wide and his fingers still gripping the edges of his shirt up. He was so white he could blend in with the plaster of the walls, making the bruises look _way_ worse than they probably actually were.

"Billy," My mom turned towards us. "I don't think these are normal bruises from roughhousing."

My dad unclamped his hand from my shoulder at that. I rubbed the sting out of my skin where his fingers pinched into me. "Then what are they?" He asked.

"I think Edward might have mono or something." She said and rubbed her fingers over the spots again, like she could diffuse the patches of red back into his body.

I cracked a smile at that, my almost-punishment completely forgotten now that I knew I was safe from the belt. "Edward has the _kissing_ disease." I started to make out with the side of my fist, making loud slurping noises.

He dropped his shirt, his face flaming crimson with embarrassment, and pushed my shoulder. "I _do_ not!"

"Stop it, Jacob." My mother scolded and I froze. She turned back to Edward, her eyes intense on him. "I'm going to make an appointment at the clinic for tomorrow after school." She said and touched Edward's cheek before turning back towards the kitchen, an unsettled expression twisting her eyebrows together and the corners of her mouth turned down in thought.

* * *

 _October 27, 2011_

I stared at this stupid poster for diabetes in the clinic exam room that barely fit one person, let alone _three_. There was a silhouette of this super fat guy – his belly distended and round, different arrows pointing to different parts of his body as they pointed out how eating McDonald's for every meal was super bad for you or something.

My mother had busied herself with the contents of her purse as she sat next to me in the little chairs for family members. She balanced her checkbook, she marked things off in her calendar, she pulled out old receipts and threw them out, she checked the expiration dates on coupons. She always got on me for fidgeting, but she literally didn't stop moving since we got into this office.

Edward had turned sighing into a work of art as he laid back on the exam table. Every about four and half minutes, he would sigh through his nose, squint at the ceiling, and then make the paper cover crinkle under his butt.

We had been here for about an hour now. A nurse or assistant or whatever (they were wearing scrubs) took us back and asked a bunch of questions to Edward about his medical history, if he was feeling funny, general stuff like his appetite and whatnot. My mother told them about the bruising, which they looked at, took his temperature and his blood pressure and then left.

"Hello, everyone." The assistant/nurse person came back with a package in her hands. "We're going to take some blood samples."

Edward sat up to a sitting position, his eyes going to Mom in concern. "I thought I was just _sick_?"

It was a little weird that he was being poked. Usually, when we got the flu or whatever, we were herded in, go through the rigmarole of temperatures and blood pressure, had our necks felt up and then given a prescription of OJ and antibiotics.

"We just want to run some basic tests, rule out anything funky." The nurse said, her nose stud glinting in the light as she snapped on some gloves.

Edward's face twisted with anxiety as the nurse prepared the crook of his left elbow with an alcohol swab and a tourniquet. She jammed a stress ball with a medication logo in his fist. "Squeeze." She ordered and I watched all of his blood vessels pop up through his pale skin.

She stuck him – his eyes going tight around the edges with pain and his mouth flattening in a thin line - and filled up a tube of blood. "Be right back." She said after she snapped off her gloves and Sharpied something on the tube.

"I think we'll pick up dinner tonight." My mother announced once the door was closed. "What should we get?"

"Sully's!" I said. We _were_ in Forks. Might as well take advantage.

"Pizza." Edward said at the same time.

We glared at each other in challenge.

"Boys," She said, her hand sifting through her purse again. " _Stop_ it."

"We can get pizza." I said and crossed my arms, slumping so far down the seat that I my spine was basically on the back of the chair. I went back to staring at the fat guy on the poster, trying to mentally calculate how many Double Cheeseburgers he stuffed in his gullet to get that way and educating myself on the symptoms of Type II diabetes.

After, like, a million years, there was finally a soft knock and an old guy in a lab coat stepped in. "You must be," He glanced at his clipboard. "Edward?"

Edward nodded, his shoulders slumping. He looked tired.

The old guy doctor took a seat on the little roll stool that I tried to occupy when we first got into the room and was promptly told to get off by Mom. He pulled up Edward's chart on the computer. "Well, Edward doesn't have mono."

"I could've told you that." I smiled. "Edward doesn't _kiss_ girls."

"Shut _up_." He blushed.

The doctor looked at my mother and then Edward. "There were some problems with the test. Specifically, the white blood cell count. It's really low." He glanced at Edward. "Too low for a healthy young man like yourself."

I felt my lips purse as I tried to remember what white blood cells did. _Were those the oxygen carrying dudes or the ones that beat up germs?_

"What does that mean?" My mother took her hands out of her bag, her eyes wide on the doctor.

The doctor shrugged and pulled something off of his clipboard. "It could mean an autoimmune disorder. I'm gonna refer you to a hematologist so they can take a closer look." He handed the paper to Mom.

I leaned over to look at it as my mom's eyes traced over the whole page. Refferal: _Emmett McCarty, Olympic Medical Center, Hematology/Oncology_. "What's oncology?" I looked up at the doctor, whose eyes just tightened around the edges.

"That's a doctor that specializes in cancer." He answered lowly.

* * *

 _October 28, 2011_

Edward stayed home from school and since Dad was back at work for the next two days, Mom decided I should too so I wouldn't be home all by myself later that evening. "Port Angeles is a long way. We'll probably be there all day." Mom said.

I was just happy to get out of school. Didn't matter the reason to me. I called shotgun and bounced up and down as I watched the Olympic national park zoom by us as we drove in Mom's Buick. _Quil and Embry would be so jealous._ I thought as I watched the tree line out the window.

Edward slumped against the car window in the back, not saying much as we drove the hour and a half to Port Angeles, the biggest town in the Peninsula. He didn't even sing along with Bohemian Rhapsody on the radio with me. _Loser._

When we got to the medical center – which I figured out was just a fancy name for a hospital – we had to go past the ER and up a floor to a section with a tiny waiting room and a television in the corner playing Rachael Ray's talk show.

"You want to play Pokemon?" I offered to Edward, pulling out my Nintendo DS out of my jeans pocket.

He pulled out his too and we got about halfway through a duel – my charmander annihilating his ekans – when his hands fell in his lap. "Mom," He said to our mother who was sitting on the other side of him, filling out paperwork. "I don't feel good."

Her arm wrapped around his shoulders. "I know, baby." She said and pressed her cheek to the top of his head. "We'll get you fixed up, okay?"

We were called back and then it turned into basically an encore of the clinic from yesterday – same questions, same temperature and blood pressure readings, same blood pull. The only thing that was different was that they filled four different vials instead of just one.

I groaned petulantly and writhed in my chair. "Why did we come all the way to Port Angeles if they're just going to do the same things they did in Forks?"

"Hush," My mother said as she filled out a packet of Edward's medical history. Pages and pages of checking off different surgeries and symptoms and whatnot. She got to the page where it had you fill out your parents' medical history. I watched my mother write a big N/A over that page and then in capital letters write ADOPTED at the top.

I glanced at Edward, who just slumped on the exam table, dark circles forming under his eyes. He looked like he was in desperate need of a nap.

"Baby," My mother asked. "Have you been having nosebleeds?"

"No," He answered flatly.

"Yes, you have." I argued. "You had one the other day."

"Oh," He said. "Yeah. Right."

Another hospital person came and took even more blood from Edward and then we were sent back to the waiting room. Rachael Ray on the television had turned into Ellen. I watched a tiny Asian girl demonstrate inhuman flexibility and let Edward rest his forehead on my shoulder. Usually something like that would bug me, but I let it slide this time around.

Mom played with Edward's hand on his other side – rubbing small circles on the back of it, her thumb running over the freckles that made up 90% of Edward's complexion.

We were summoned by another hospital person, but instead of an exam room, we were led to an office of some sort. Or well, I think it was an office under the Chicago Bears merchandise that covered almost every square surface.

A huge, burly guy stood up from behind the desk when we walked in. He had curly black hair and wasn't wearing a lab coat, but was wearing a button down shirt and tie. "Hello, Edward." He greeted, his smile nice and friendly as he shook all of our hands. "I'm Dr. McCarty."

I looked at his gigantic hands – he could play baseball without a mitt, they were so large - and the ring that sat on his pinkie finger. _Chicago Bears. World Champions. 1986._ My eyes widened as I realized that was a Super Bowl ring. "You played for the _Bears_?" I asked in disbelief.

He glanced at his hand, his smile widening. "Tight end for three years. At least, until a bad tackle slipped a couple of discs." He laughed – a thunderous sound that ricocheted off the walls - and then turned his attention back to Edward. "How are you feeling, buddy?"

"I'm tired." Edward admitted, forcing a small smile.

Dr. McCarty flipped open a folder. "Well, we got your blood tests results back…" He launched into a full scale assault of words that I didn't even know existed in the English language.

Both Edward and I's faces twisted into confusion as he threw words like _hemoglobin_ and _platelets_ around. I glanced over at Mom to see if she was tracking, but her eyes were wide as ours. Her hand snatched Edward's at a word – _leukemic –_ and I watched her face pale. "What are you saying, doctor?"

His eyes moved from Mom's to Edward's. "I want to get a bone marrow aspiration to confirm, but I'm pretty sure you have a cancer called acute myeloid leukemia, Edward."

"Cancer?" His voice hitched up and his fingers that weren't laced with Mom's nervously played with the edge of shirt. "Like, _cancer_?"

The doctor clapped his large hands together and then leaned forward like he was about to call a play. "It's not a typical sort of cancer for kids, but yes. It's a cancer of your white blood cells – you know the little soldier guys that fight off diseases and germs?"

Edward nodded, his green eyes wide on the doctor.

"Well, they form as baby cells first call stem cells, but if they're cancerous then they get all weird and funky and become these little monsters called myeloblasts. These little monster cells crowd out the healthy cells and make it harder for your body to fight off germs and sicknesses like the cold."

There was a silence as we all ingested this news. It was thick and almost touchable. A living thing, breathing on our necks as we all reeled ourselves back in. I tried to imagine little monster cells bullying the good guys in Edward's body: knocking heads together, giving German suplexes like WWE fighters to the scrawny guys that were just trying to do their jobs.

Edward couldn't have _cancer_. Like, only people on television and like, _old_ people get cancer. I looked at my brother. Like, cancer puts you in a hospital bed and make you bald. Edward was _healthy_ – like we just played basketball the other day and spent the morning arguing over the bathroom like we always did. This football-player-turned-doctor was wrong. He _had_ to be.

"Is Edward going to die?" I blurted, feeling my mom tense up and stop breathing at the question.

"Well," He pressed his fingertips together. "I want to run some more tests to see if its been spread to other parts of your body. But, the five-year survival rate is sixty-five to seventy-five percent. That's a lot better than it was five to ten years ago."

Sixty-five percent. I did the math. That meant that out of one hundred kids with this _thing,_ only sixty-five survived. I looked at my brother, who had his eyes trained on his hands, trying to figure out which side he was on.

* * *

 **So, if you are liking this story, dear readers of the fiction of fan, please feel free to say so in that review box below. I love reviews. They make my giblets tingly.**


	4. Chapter 4

_Bella_

 _August 13, 2016_

Edward was staring at me.

He was trying _not_ to stare at me. Or at least, _really_ bad at hiding that he was staring at me. Every time I met his gaze, he would blush and drop his eyes back to his syllabus. His shoulders became more and more hunched into himself, like a piece of origami folding itself over and over until it disappeared completely.

"I don't do retakes," Mr. Molino said from the front of the class, one foot hooked over the other. "I will, however, offer extra credit opportunities throughout the semester…"

I felt his eyes on me again and glanced over to meet his gaze and he did the thing where his face flushed he pretended to straighten his papers.

At least he wasn't staring at me like he was trying to mentally undress me, like most boys did. I almost groaned audibly. I _definitely_ twisted around in my seat in disgust. I had never, _never_ been noticed by boys before in Phoenix and then I come here and all of a sudden I'm beeping on everyone's radar like a treasure waiting to be discovered. Half novelty since all of these kids probably knew each other from the diaper days and I was a brand new, shiny toy to play with, and half competition – _let's see who can nab the new girl first._ Gross.

No, he was staring at me like he was like he was trying to figure me out. Like, I was a puzzle to solve. A SkyMall Sudoku that hadn't been done yet.

I decided to stare back. I mean, we could play this game of pretending not to look at each other, but then I felt like we would just be lying to each other if we did that. And I didn't like lying.

My eyes automatically went to where it was impolite to stare – the clear tubing around his face – I traced over the line of it, from the nubbies that sat in his nostrils to where they hooked around his ears to connect under his chin, with a little slide to tighten it up and down. I averted my eyes, feeling my own face heat up red. _That was rude._ I chastised myself.

I glanced at him to see if he noticed me. He didn't, his eyes aggressively trained on the syllabus in front of him.

I took the opportunity to look at his tousled, red hair and the line of his chin. I liked his green eyes. They were pretty, like jewels. And intense, you know, _deep_. Like they've seen some stuff, some hard stuff. I glanced at his tank again. _Death, maybe?_ My breathing sped up with anxiety at that thought.

He looked over again and I met his gaze, smiling reassuringly. _It's okay._ I screamed at him in my head. _I won't bite_. He dropped his eyes again, nervously running his lower lip between his teeth.

I frowned. This 'making friends' thing seemed easier in the movies. Friends my never interested me in Phoenix. Well, then again, I had my scatterbrained mother to take care of and she was a full-time job, making things like _friends_ difficult to have.

I kicked my feet in my stool. I moved to Forks to get away from her and her new, but young husband, Phil, feeling crowded out in a newlyweds' house. Without me, she was free to do what she wanted without her daughter criticizing her every move. It worked out. My dad, Charlie, was eager to have me, since he really only got to see me about a week out of the year. And that's if we all scraped up the money to fly me up to Washington, since Charlie hated Arizona.

It just stunk that I had to go to a whole new school _one year_ before graduation. Renee tried to talk me out of it, of course. _You have one more year, Bella._ She would say. _And then you'll go off to fancy college in any state you wish, my smart girl._

But, after catching my mom and my step dad naked as the day they were born in the throngs of passionate lovemaking on our dining room table, I decided that sooner rather than later was probably for the best.

I missed her though. She was chaotic, but she was free and bright and _fun_. I frowned. If I had a friend, it was her. She was my best friend.

A rattly noise took me out of my reverie and I glanced over at Edward, who was coughing into his fist. He breathed like my Grandpa Swan who smoked for most of his life – each breath sounding like a chore to get in and out. _Poor guy._ I thought, glancing at the tubing again. _What happened?_

The bell rang, signaling the end of class and I watched Edward start to get up, his eyes intense as he gripped his cart that held his silver oxygen tank.

"Hey," I said and got up too, stuffing everything into my bag to chase after him. "Wait up."

He stopped outside of the door, a surprised look on his face. That confused me momentarily. I thought we had a nice chat at the beginning of class. And then with all the staring. Most boys wouldn't just fly out of the classroom like that. But, then again, he didn't seem – in the fifty minutes I got to sit next to him – like most boys.

"Hey, there." He said, maneuvering his cart closer to his body so it wouldn't get bumped by passing students. He danced from foot-to-foot like he had to use the restroom.

"You in a hurry?" I watched his Vans tap dance on the floor.

He glanced down at the schedule in his hands. "My next class is in the English building and I have to get my book…"

He was in a hurry to get to class? _Why?_

"You know you're not obligated to take your book for, like, the first _week_ of class?"

His confusion deepened. "But…"

I pulled the paper from his hands. He had English next. He was taking mostly AP courses. _He's smart._

"We're going to spend the first week going over syllabi and the student handbook." I explained and handed it back to him.

"Thanks." He said, his face blushing. "I'm glad one of us knows what they're doing."

"Not entirely." I pulled out my own schedule. "I'm still getting used to this school." I examined the map on the back. "Why are they all separate buildings if it rains like three-fourths out of the year, here?"

Edward laughed – a hoarse, rasping sound. His smile was nice, too. It hitched up higher on the right side of his face than the left. _Different._ "Optimism?"

A group of kids walking five abreast down the hallway forced me to step forward towards Edward to avoid being hit by them. I caught a whiff of his cologne or aftershave or whatever and I felt my pulse pick up under my skin and hastily stepped back out of his bubble, glancing down at my own schedule to hide my own blush. "My next class is Spanish." I said. "It's in the same building. We can walk together?"

His eyebrows pulled together and he glanced at his cart. "I slow people down. I don't want to make you late."

"It's okay." I assured with a smile. "Everyone's late on their first day."

* * *

 _August 13, 2016_

Edward was right - he was slow. Like, _slow._ But, that was okay. Instead of rushing around, I got to take in my surroundings a little. Saunter instead of hurry. Stop and smell the petrichor and the pine needles and the squishy grass that was in the constant state of _moist._

His cart - which was covered in about a hundred stickers - sang a squeaky song behind us as we walked towards the front of the school, where the Lit building was located. I listened to him breathe his arduous breaths, trying to come up with something to talk about.

"Are you from around here?" I asked to break up silence.

He shook his head. "La," He inhaled. "Push."

I felt my eyes widen in understanding as I quickly realized that talking and walking and breathing was probably not a thing he could do simultaneously. I blushed out of embarrassment. _Sorry._ I mentally broadcasted, hoping his ESP was working today.

About halfway to the building, he stopped and propped his cart back up. "I have," he inhaled. "tocatchmybreath."

"That's okay." I assured.

I pushed my hair back so it sat behind my ear. Now that we are stopped, we could talk. Or I could talk and he could nod. "La Push is the Native American reservation, right?"

He nodded and I watched him tick up the dial on his tank by one and inhale deep breaths. His fingers went to his ribs and he rubbed small circles.

"Are you okay?" I asked, the words blurting out of me as I watched him.

He nodded again.

Did we go too fast? Was he trying to keep up with me? Do I _do_ that? I started to worry, my own breathing hitching up. I looked into his face, but his eyes were on his tank and the corners of his mouth were pitched downward. He didn't look like he was in pain or anything. And his coloring was okay. Pale, but, like, not blue. I felt myself chew on my lower lip.

"Quileute." He said after a moment of silence.

"What?"

"That's the tribe of La Push." He said and adjusted his oxygen back down, his breathing returning to its normal rhythm.

I felt the breath I had been holding whoosh out of me as I relaxed. And then I felt embarrassed. _Sorry._ I broadcasted in my head again and looked at my shoes. "So how does a missing Weasley sibling end up on a Quileute reservation?" I looked up at him with a smile.

"I'm adopted." He explained, smiling back. "My family is Quileute. My dad's fire chief at the station. That's where I was abandoned."

"That sucks."

He shrugged. "I was, like, less than a day old or something and on the brink of death from dehydration. Obviously whoever dropped me there _shouldn't_ have had a baby to begin with. They made a wise choice."

"So your dad's Billy Black?" I said as I put it all together. "I was just at your house last night."

Something flashed in his eyes and his smile disappeared. "Yeah, you bought our truck."

"Earl." I said.

"Earl?"

"That's what I named it."

He started moving again at the same time the bell rang, signaling we were late. I didn't move to pick up my feet, though. I just kept steady next to Edward, walking at his pace. "I like that name." He said quietly. "It's a good name for that truck."

"Thanks," I said as I pushed myself into the Lit building and held open the door for him. "Jacob came up with it."

"Is Earl treating you well?"

"He complains _loudly_ when I try to push it over sixty."

"You have to be kind. He _is_ a senior citizen." Edward responded, his smile finding its place on his face again. "Did you have a car in Arizona?"

I shook my head. "No, but my mom had a car that she'd let me borrow and the bus system is pretty comprehensive."

I watched as he pulled his schedule from his backpack and glance at it. "This is my classroom." He pointed at the first door on the left.

"I'm down the hall, I think."

"Okay," He nodded. "See you around?" His eyes looked apprehensive at the question, like he was afraid of my answer.

"Yeah. Totally." I nodded. "Nice meeting you, Edward."

"Nice meeting you too," He sucked in a breath, his hand on the door. "Bella." My name sounded nice when he said it. Breathy, like a sigh after a kiss.

* * *

 _August 13, 2016_

I froze when I got through the door.

The teacher hadn't arrived yet. All the kids milled around in groups - sitting on desks, laughing and chatting unsupervised. I identified an empty space in the corner in the front where I could slip in unnoticed, but a blond boy with spiky hair and ice blue eyes intercepted me. "Hey, you're Isabella Swan, right?"

"Bella," I corrected automatically, trying to sidestep around him. He maneuvered with me so he could stay in my pathway to the desk. I felt my cheeks blaze red.

"I'm Mike Newton." His eyes traced down my body, appraising me. Apparently he liked what he saw, because he smiled. "We should hang out sometime, you know, since you're new? I can show you around." He tried to do this thing with his eyes – I guessed to make them more smoldering and bedroom-y - but they were such a startling light shade of blue that it just made him look like he was trying to smite me with his mind.

I glanced at his Drake t-shirt, already surmising that he and I would _not_ get along. _Not on your life, buddy._ I mustered a polite smile anyway and started to move around him again. "That's really-,"

"Bella!" I heard my name and turned to my savior from this already wretched conversation.

Jacob Black was ridiculously tall and built like Hercules carved into marble, the lines of his biceps protruding against the sleeves of his white t-shirt. It was an odd contrast to his brown, almost black eyes that danced with humor and his shockingly white, cheesy grin.

"Hey, Jake." I greeted with a smile, having to lean back to look up at him.

Jake glanced at Mike, whose expression had morphed into glaring. It wasn't like he could do much, though. Two Mikes probably couldn't even fill the space that one Jacob took up.

Jake turned back to me. "Come sit with us."

"Okay," I agreed, eager to get away from this guy. I heard Mike mutter _"fucking aborigines"_ under his breath as I trailed Jacob down a line of desks. _What a winner._ I thought with a snort and an eye roll.

The Quileute kids were sitting in a tight bunch in the back-right of the classroom. There were two others who Jake introduced to me as Quil and Embry. I greeted them both and then slid into a desk behind Jake and watched him twist around so his long legs were in the aisle.

He propped an elbow on my desk. He didn't check me out like Mike did, instead maintained eye contact while he spoke. _His mother taught him manners._ I wanted to thank her for raising such respectable boys. "How's Forks treating you so far?"

I shrugged. "It's uncomfortably wet." I squished my damp sock in my boot with my big toe.

Jake grinned. "You get used to it."

"I highly doubt that," I smiled back. "But, I'll take your word for it."

"What about the truck?" His eyes flashed with sudden intensity. He wore his expressions like a loud shirt, his thoughts animating in real-time on his russet-colored face.

I thought fondly to my truck. Charlie - a man of few actions and fewer words – was so excited when he told me that he got it for me as a present. I was over the moon to have a vehicle that ran, knowing that the public transportation system in Forks did not match what was offered in Phoenix. "Earl's great." I smiled. "Cantankerous."

"Cool." He nodded, his head bobbing up and down. "Cool."

"Buenos Dias." The teacher – a short, Hispanic lady - entered the classroom in a rush. "Sorry I am late." She apologized. "My car was giving me issues this morning. On the first day of school, of all days." She pulled out a stack of syllabi.

Everyone quieted down as she started to hand out papers, taking their seats if they were standing. I watched Mike Newton slip into a desk and slump down, his posture poor.

I took a syllabus and passed the rest behind me. I had already taken Spanish my freshman year, but Forks required four semesters of foreign language, not just two, like my school in Phoenix. I immediately started to zone out when she started in on her expectations for class.

I propped my chin on my fist and looked out the window that lined the classroom wall on the west side. There wasn't much to look at - just a tree line of evergreens and oaks. There was forest everywhere here, with a national park only miles away. It was green, contrasting in different shades against the cloudy sky. I sighed. I missed the _sun._

I thought about Edward for a brief second and my head churned with a series of emotions that didn't make sense to me. So, I did what my mother would've done – I psychoanalyzed myself. Although, she probably would've used the horoscope from the _Globe_ and a book on Wiccan legends or something to help her.

I worried. _Okay._ That one wasn't hard. It was hard not to worry over a boy that sounded like he was in a constant state of asthma attack. I pushed that one out of my mind quickly.

Curiosity. Also a no-brainer. _What happened?_ The question bounced around my head like an echo. However, I knew it was his story to tell - _if_ he wanted to tell it. I honestly would only want to hear it from him, anyway. Receiving it secondhand felt like I was betraying him, somehow.

And then there was a bunch of other emotions that didn't make sense.

Altruism was one. I didn't like when he frowned. It almost - I don't know - _hurt_ me. Like a bee sting that I wanted to instinctually smack off my skin. Which was odd, because our relationship was an hour old.

Protectiveness was another? I tried to imagine his birth parents just dumping their kid off at a random fire station like an Amazon package. Like, who _does_ that? I felt my face flush with anger at the faceless, nameless mother and father. _Bastards._

I squinted at the tree line through the window and chewed on my nail. _Was this what having a friend was like?_ I honestly had no clue. It seemed tiring. Relationships past immediate family members seemed insurmountable for very little payout. I put in all of this work and emotional effort? For what? For us to wave goodbye at graduation and never speak to each other again? Seemed like a waste.

Still, I wouldn't mind being Edward's friend. And I felt like I was already Jacob's friend - whether I had a say in the situation or not. Jake was one of those people that _breathed_ and made friends. I imagined myself between the two brothers – the yin and yang of Forks High School – and saw myself laughing, joking, enjoying myself.

"Bella."

I was snapped out of my thoughts by Jacob, who had turned in his seat again. I looked at him. I did not feel the same emotions with him as I did with Edward. Jake made me feel _liberated._ Last night, in the truck, he gave Earl a funny voice that had me laughing so hard I had tears streaming down my face. I gravitated towards him like people gravitated towards the dance floor at parties or towards comedians or towards playgrounds - because he was _fun._

"Yes, Jake?" I said, noticing that the teacher was gone again.

"What are you doing this weekend?"

"You know, usual stuff." I said as seriously as possible. "Laundry, grocery shopping, summoning Satan," I shrugged. "We'll see."

He grinned at my joke. "Well, you and Satan should come to First Beach and hang out. We'll probably barbeque or something."

I'll let Satan know." I said, laughing. "He loves barbeques. Reminds him of home."

"I bet." Jake said as he pulled out his cell phone and handed it to me. "Put your number in so I can text you the address."

I did as I was told, creating a new contact for myself. His old cell phone screen had a crack in it and I was trying to get the 'l' to type for 'Bella' when I watched a text message from Edward populate on the screen and vibrate his phone.

 **I think I'm in love.**

I felt my face go crimson as I finished the contact and handed Jake's phone back to him.

"I'll text you the details." He said and slipped his phone back in his pocket and then turned to Quil to laugh with him over something.

I just nodded, shocked. That text was not about _me_ , was it? It couldn't have been about me. He could be talking about anything, right? The muffins in the cafeteria, a cute puppy, Blake Lively. Those were things to be i _n love_ over. Maybe he was talking about a different girl in his English class. Love at first sight type-thing. I don't know.

What I did know that that text _definitely_ wasn't meant for me and I felt guilty and embarrassed for even reading it in the first place. That was an invasion of privacy. I worried my syllabus, poking up the staples with my fingernail and repented to whatever high power for my sins, which I felt was a lot so far in my short-lived Quest to Become Edward's Friend.

 _But, what if…_

What if in the slightest, small inkling-est of chances that text _was_ about me? My wild imagination took me to a new fantasy. Where I was Edward's girlfriend. Him, I and his oxygen tank staring at the gray, churning waters of the Pacific. My hand in his. His hand in…

 _No._ Stop being weird, Bella. Edward was different and I was intrigued by his different-ness, but we _literally_ just met. Literally.

I glanced out the window back at the tree line that was the same shade of Edward's eyes, deciding if relationships were waste of energy, then romance must be the fossil fuel crisis of humanity.

* * *

 **Y'all are a tough crowd to impress it seems with the lack of reviews and whatnot. lol. I guess if this story is a dumpster fire I could just stop writing it. Seems easy enough.**

 **I wanted to make Bella less 40-y/o-soccer-mom and more teenager-ish. I always like that Bella was smart beyond her years, it was the victim-mentality and the personality that was nails on a chalkboard for me. So Bella with some balls is definitely a fun character to write.**


	5. Chapter 5

_Edward_

 _August 13, 2016_

I spent the next class trying to convince myself that Bella actually wanted to be my friend and wasn't just using me to satisfy this weird need to be philanthropist. Her random act of kindness for the day. Like paying for the coffee for the person behind you in the Starbucks line or dumping your pocket change in the Salvation Army bucket. _I was nice to the ailing kid._ _My good deed is done. See high powers of the world?_ And then she could go back to be a shallow, shit person like the rest of humanity.

But, something told me that wasn't right. Bella was different, somehow. It was in her silent grace, her mature vocabulary, the way she didn't immediately steal the conversation to talk about herself. Actually, she didn't talk about herself much at all. All I knew was that she borrowed her mom's car and named the truck Earl. We talked about me the whole time we walked.

 _Different._

I was a pretty good people reader. You _had_ to be when you were a chronically sick kid. Adults had a habit of downplaying the truth to 'protect' you or whatever. It was _infuriating_. Especially when it was _your_ body that's in question. But, you pick up pretty quick of the psychological tells that give people away – expressions, emotions in peoples' eyes, posture, idiosyncrasies that were a gigantic neon sign for their inner monologues.

Not Bella, though. She was different, but I couldn't figure out why. She was a mystery. Her eyes – they were deep wells of brown that held so many secret emotions. They were fluid, constantly changing with her thoughts. _What was she thinking?_ She was _frustratingly_ enigmatic.

 _Mystery._

I tapped my toes at the same cadence my heart was beating as I watched Ms. Ethan go over the required reading list in AP English. Most books I had already read – reading was my favorite activity to do while I was sitting and not moving.

Today I couldn't sit still if I tried. I was a fidgety _mess._ I put my chin in my hands to only pick it back up. I tapped my shoes on the floor. I spun my tubing around on my finger. I chewed on all my nails.

I knew the whole love-at-first-sight thing you see in Nicholas Sparks movies were bullshit. Or at least I _thought_ that before today. Now I wasn't so sure I definitely felt _something_ with Bella. Was it love? I don't know. It made my chest – my usual tight, achy chest – feel light and airy. I could run a lap around the football field or do jumping jacks or, I don't know, _something._

 _Something._ I pushed my hair off my forehead. I had to do something. What? Not fuck this up, for one. That was going to be hard. Fucking things up tended to be my modus operandi. But, what do I _do_? I've never felt this way about someone before.

I needed advice. I needed my brother. I needed Jacob.

I pulled out my phone, held it under my desk because we just went over the no cell phone policy in class and texted Jacob.

 **I think I'm in love.**

And I waited. It took him until the next period to text me back. _Bastard._ Can't you see that I need you? We were the same age, so we joked we were twins. But, I guess we missed out on the twin-telepathy thing.

 **Bro!** Was all he texted back.

I almost smashed my phone against my desk in frustration. _Not helping, Jake._

 **What do I do?**

At least he was quick about his next text.

 **Just be yourself.**

 _You are useless_. I thought as I read over probably the most cliché advice I think I ever had the displeasure to waste brain power comprehending.

I sighed. In his eyes, that was sound advice. Being yourself was easy if you were Jacob. People gravitated towards him like he was the sun – shiny and full of energy and warmth. He made people happy.

I looked out the window. My third period SAT prep class looked out onto the parking lot. I could see Earl – the worn, red Chevy that's been in my family since potty training. I could see Leia parked -the left-back tire on the line since Jacob couldn't park straight to save his life - in the furthest handicap space. Because, I couldn't walk across a parking lot without winding myself.

I felt my eyebrows knit together. Bella was a mystery because she wanted to be _my_ friend. I was not a sun, like Jacob. People didn't gravitate towards me. I was a cloudy sky, the gray before a thunderstorm. I just made people sad.

* * *

 _August 13, 2016_

Everything I had built Bella up to be in my head exploded in my face come lunch.

I watched Jacob – in his spastic, raging fashion – burst into the cafeteria like a bull in a china shop, roaring with full belly laughs his gigantic tree-limb arm around Bella's shoulders like they were already BFFs. She was laughing too – so hard, in fact, that she had to press tears from her eyes, her face blushed and red.

I had taken a seat with the other Quileute kids that had commandeered the middle table. Quil and Embry were on one side of me playing music from their phones and flicking food at each other. Jared was flirting up one of the Forks girls – a short girl with voluminous dark brown hair - who had taken a seat with us. And others milled around the table, leaning and eating and talking about their summers.

I got lunch and sat at the very end of the table so I could park Lenny in an area where it wouldn't get knocked over - my book bag strategically placed on the seat next to me so I could save it for Bella.

I even, like, prepared greetings and conversation starters in my head because I was pathetic, wretched dweeb.

But then Jacob rolled into the cafeteria – Bella already on his arm - and I felt like a balloon that was blown up to capacity and then let go to deflate around the room, only to land limp and lifeless on the ground.

I had completely forgotten about Jacob. Of _course_ Jacob would go after her. She was new and novel - and pretty and smart. And he got to her first. He _was_ flirting with her yesterday and I all but gave him my blessing.

But, he would just treat her like he did any other girl. He didn't _care_ about her. Not in the same way. She would be another Leah – a fling that would end and he would be onto the next thing. He was like a child being flashed shiny toys.

And she was _falling_ for it. That was the _most_ disappointing, I think. Jacob threw his dimples and his wide, brilliant smile around and all of a sudden he was surrounded by girls like bees on a honeypot. _Bella was different_. I thought _._ Smart. Profound. Not fall for Jacob's cheap tricks and pickup lines and charm, like every other shallow girl in the damn northwest region of the United States.

I watched them sit down in front of Quil and Embry, leaving me at the end of the table. The light and airy feeling in my chest replaced with a million tons of dead weight when I realized that my fear was correct – she didn't want to be my friend. I was just a charity case to her. _I will only ever be a charity case._

I looked at her – her brown hair and pale skin and wide eyes and my stomach rolled with disgust. _You were supposed to be different._

But she wasn't. My face heated up with anger and betrayal. _Stupid._ I thought to myself. I was so stupid. To think that she was anything different. It was all complete fantasy. She was just the same as the rest of them. They all were. And I was an imbecile to try and believe otherwise.

I didn't need friends. I came to school because I wanted a semi-normal school year – pass my classes, fill out college applications, forget that I spent the better part of my sophomore year hooked up to a machine that breathed for me, fighting my own body for control. Friends didn't have to be apart of that equation. I was fine by myself.

I've always been fine by myself. And I wasn't a _damn_ charity case.

I jammed my hand into my backpack and pulled out my battered Penguin Publishing copy of _Titus Andronicus_ by Shakespeare. I pushed my lunch tray away, not hungry anymore and opened to a random act and started reading, putting my elbow on the table to block my face from them.

I liked _Titus Andronicus._ There was an odd, poetic justice in brutally killing your daughter's rapists and feeding them to their mother in the form of a meat pie. Or maybe I just liked it because I could relate to Lavinia – getting _fucked_ over and punished for things that weren't even her fault.

I was just getting into the second scene of act III, where Titus tells off Marcus for killing a fly, when I heard a soft voice in front of me. "Edward?"

I looked up to Bella, who had taken the free seat across from me, her hand wrapped around her apple juice bottle. Her eyes were wide on me. "You want to come sit with us?"

 _Charity case._

I felt my face blush with my scowl and I went back to my book to hide it. "I'm fine, thanks." I said curtly.

"Is it okay if I sit with you, then?"

"Sure."

I expected questions. Or, I don't know – some sort of attempt at conversation. I was looking forward to it, so I could ignore it and feel slightly less gutted over the fact that my brother _stole_ the only person who I thought I could have some sort of meaningful relationship with.

But, I wasn't given that pleasure. We sat in silence. I felt Bella's eyes bore into me for a moment, but she didn't make an effort to fill the quiet. It was just us and my noisy breathing.

There was a bang at the other side of the table that caused me to flinch. I looked over to see that Quil and Jacob were roughhousing. Quil was bent over the table, Jacob's gigantic hand on his face as he threatened to pour a can of soda on his head.

I heard humming and without thinking about it - I turned to Bella, who had taken out her own book, unbothered by the ruckus at the other end of the table. She held it flat on the table with her arm. She moved her head and I watched as all of her beautiful, dark hair flip to one side.

I sighed, feeling my eyebrows knit together. I didn't need friends, but boy, I sure desperately wanted them. "What are you reading?" I asked quietly.

She picked up her book. _Wuthering Heights_ was the title on the front. She made a face. "Not my cup of tea. It's for class." I watched one of her delicate fingers loop into her hair.

"You don't like the classic love stories?"

Her grimace deepened. "If you want to call this incestuous, psychologically damaging, manipulative, violent, and miserable horror show 'love' than no. I guess I don't like love stories." She said as she flipped the page, the corners of her mouth hitching up.

We lapsed into silence. And I tried to read her face, guess at what she was thinking about. There was a slight pucker in her eyebrows as she read. _Mystery._ She was so frustrating.

I looked back down at my own book, feeling my lower lip insert itself between my teeth as I sped read through the third act of the play I've read about forty times before. I could probably quote this play word-for-word I knew it so well. I slammed it closed, watching the paper cover pop back up slightly from years of wear.

" _Titus Andronicus_." She said and I looked up to her wide brown eyes. "Now _there's_ a story."

Before I could open my mouth and say something, the table – and everything on it – violently shifted to the side as Jacob slammed his body onto the surface, filling the space in front of me with his face. At least he was careful not to shoulder slam himself into my abandoned tray of enchiladas. "Dude," His eyes were wide on me. "I need to talk to you about those texts. I _need_ details."

"What texts?" I asked, trying to rip my book out from underneath Jake's shoulder and failing.

"The ones from _earlier_." The 'duh' was implied with his voice. "I need to know who this girl _is_. Who has captured the heart of my brother?" Jacob rested his hand on his chest and sighed dramatically.

I froze ice solid and felt my face go crimson. Worse than that. Maroon. Purple. I felt like all my blood pooled right under my cheeks. I glanced up at Bella – for the teensiest of seconds – and saw that she was looking at me with a blush of pink of her own.

 _Please, for the love of God, shut the fuck up._ I broadcasted as loud as I could in my head.

Of course, Jacob didn't hear me through his thick skull. Or noticed that I glanced at her, or noticed that I had turned a shade that rivaled raspberry jam. Instead he stood up and slid into the seat next to Bella and leaned forward like I was going to start divulging state secrets.

"I think that's my cue." She said and put her bookmark in her book and stood up. Her messenger bag was a canvas material and had a couple of buttons on it. _World's Best Dad_ was one of them.

"You don't have to go." Jacob looked up her, pouting like a puppy-dog.

"It's cool. My next class is gym and I gotta grab my shoes out of Earl." She held _Wuthering Heights_ against her chest and turned to me, her eyes going intense for the briefest of seconds. What did _that_ mean? "See you later, Edward."

We both watched her exit the cafeteria. I sighed wistfully. _I'm not a charity case._ I thought. I wished, prayed, _hoped_ that she thought that too.

"Well?" Jake pressed.

I scowled at him, the color draining from my face. _You're the one who's ruining my life._ I thought. _You're the one who can't keep his damn hands to himself._ He always had to be there. He couldn't have just left this _one thing_ alone, for once? For _me?_

"Why would I _even_ tell you?" I scoffed.

His puppy-dog pout came back, his black eyes going wide. "Because we tell each other everything?"

I picked up my book and reopened it. "Well, things change."

He groaned, his head pitching back. "What did I do _now_?"

I looked at him, _really_ looked at him. His high cheekbones and the dimples next to his chin and his short black hair that was starting to get long on the top. _You existed._ I thought as I pushed myself away from the table.

Because, nobody wanted the cloudy sky when the sunshine was an option.

* * *

 _August 13, 2016_

I turned down Bertha as soon as I got into the house, the chicken filling the kitchen with the smells of paprika and cumin and headed to our room so I could stew in existential misery and curse the day I was born… and maybe start trig homework too even though it wasn't due until next week.

I switched to my concentrator and flopped on my bunk. I listened to the motor hum and the attached humidifier bottle bubble that kept the dry oxygen from irritating the insides of my nostrils. It still did – the edges of my nose in a constant state of peel, like when you get a cold and use rough tissues.

I was so goddamn frustrated with myself. I was smarter than this. I was philosophical, cerebral, logical. Or at least, above petty high school drama. I almost died for petessakes. You don't go towards the light and come back to then waste time on menial things like _crushes_ and _feelings._

Yet here I was - rolling around, pining for a girl that I had _two_ whole conversations with, hating my brother for getting to her first and hating myself for even letting myself _feel_ this way.

And I didn't even know if she felt even remotely the same. She was such a hard person to get a read on. Like that expression – the briefest second of intensity before she left the cafeteria – what did that mean? And the blush when Jacob mentioned the texts? What did _that_ mean? She said "see you later" too, not 'bye' or 'nice seeing you again.' She said " _see you later_." Did that mean she _wanted_ to see me later?

I groaned and rolled back and forth, trying to find a comfortable position on my bed and failing because I was so wrapped up in this and because my lungs were shitty at being lungs.

Did she think of me as a charity case? Did she not? She came over and sat with me. But, that could be really charity-case-y. I groaned and stuffed my face into my pillow, feeling the nubs of my cannula jam violently into my nostrils.

"Oh, really?" Jake said on his phone and leaned against the doorframe. He had taken his jacket off, but nothing else, which meant he was planning on going back out.

I wondered who he was talking to. _Bella?_ If he had Bella's number already, I was literally going to strangle myself with my cannula.

"A new tranny? Yeah, that's not too bad. The tires bald?" Oh, he was talking to Harry Clearwater about cars. That made me feel infinitesimally better.

I watched his eyes dance for a second before rolling on my side and picking up my cell phone – mindlessly distracting myself with social media. I was still pissed at Jacob. Which was also absurd and I could reasonably see how absurd that was. I didn't even know if there was anything going on. Jacob was a friendly guy and _of course_ he was going to be nice to Charlie Swan's daughter. Charlie was basically family.

 _And yet._ I couldn't even _look_ at Jacob on way home from school. I stuffed my earbuds in my ears to avoid conversation. Every time I glanced at his permanently affixed grin, I felt like stabbing him with a pencil and then slitting my own wrists. It was horrible. I was _being_ horrible.

 _Why am I like this?_

"Yeah, that's sounds great. I'll let him know. Thanks, Harry." Jacob paused and I prepared myself for the verbal onslaught. "Bro!" He almost shouted. "I got you a car and the best deal on this side of the Mississippi river."

"Cool." I grumbled and scrolled Tumblr, not even bothering to roll over.

"It's a 2003 Volvo S80. It's silver. Hundred thirty thousand miles. It needs a new transmission – which isn't too bad and some other quick-fix stuff. Automatic, because I know you can't drive stick. And – get this – leather freaking seats. How cool is _that_?"

"Yeah," I said. "Cool."

"And Harry will sell it to you for a grand and the cost of the new transmission, which is like two thousand less than it goes for. Dude, you have the money. You could buy a car _tonight_ and have it fixed up by _next week_." I could hear Jacob move around behind me as he changed his clothes. "You want to go check it out?"

 _Not really._ I listened to the churn of the concentrator, my click and hisses of my inhales, and the hum of the motor. I would have to switch back an oxygen tank and crack a new once since the one I used today was almost out. I was exhausted too – running around a campus made for able-bodied individuals. Not to mention the depression of having your goddamn heart ripped out of my chest.

"Edward," He groaned. "I _said_ I would find you a car and I _did._ What is your _problem_?"

I sighed – my chest feeling tighten with the exertion - and rolled over to face him. I _did_ want to check out the car. I looked at him, feeling the stab of betrayal wash over me again, all the hard feelings stab at me and opened my mouth to tell him to go to hell when he cut me off.

"It's got a moon roof." He grinned, now changed into his old Seahawks shirt and a pair of basketball shorts.

"Fine," I sat up. "I don't want to spend all night there though." Jacob considered Harry his second dad and could spend _hours_ talking shop with him. "I have homework."

"Dude, it's the first _day_." He said and picked up a tank of oxygen for me.

I watched as he pulled out his keys where he had a wrench hanging like a keychain to open the tank and start the flow of air. I watched him move around. In a second he had the regulator off the old one and on the new one, the old tank stickered for removal by the medical supply people, and was handing me the cannula.

"Thanks." I said and switched, my anger against him steaming out of me a little. He was still infuriating and I still was pissed over Bella, but I couldn't be _too_ mad at him. He loved me in his own Jacob way. Although stabbing him with a pencil hadn't been completely taken off the table.

We rode over to Harry's garage on the edge of the rez. _La Push Car Repair._ It was not a pretty building, but it was a fixture in the community. Harry greeted us when we walked in – his denim shirt streaked with grease and his gray hair braided behind him. "How's it going?" He smiled, his face etched with age lines.

Jacob clapped Harry in a hug. "We're good."

He hugged me with one arm and the smell of car grease and gasoline and everything else that accompanied car garages irritated my shitty lungs. I coughed against my fist – the sound drowning out their conversation - as I followed them through the garage, pulling Lenny behind me.

"I got her over here." He motioned us to follow him into his large lot behind the garage. Cars in arraying states of disrepair were parked haphazardly in rows against the back fence. Some were stripped all the way to the frame, sitting on cinderblocks, some were missing parts like car doors. I never felt really comfortable at the garage, but I empathized with the cars in the back. I knew what it was like to feel broken down.

One was pulled out – a silver Volvo – the hood up and the driver's door was open. Harry and Jake leaned over the hood. I stood next to them, not really know what I was looking at when it came to cars. I could identify the battery and the motor.

"The transmission needs some fixing." He said. "Which I won't charge more than eight hundred for, since I gleaned it off of another Volvo I had laying around and then the car itself, I was thinking another grand. Eighteen hundred sound reasonable?" Harry smacked Jake on the arm. "Given that Jake provides free labor for the work?"

Jacob laughed and moved to wrap his arm my shoulders.

I fought for control of my breath, clearing out my chest from the rattles. "Yeah," I inhaled. "Free."

Jacob scrutinized me for a second, his chin tipping up and his black eyes going intense. His own way of asking if I was okay, since he knew how much I hated drawing attention to all of my faults. I told him I was fine with slight nod. We may not have telepathy, but we had our own language.

I stopped coughing after a couple deep inhales. "I think eighteen hundred should be fine."

"Get in. Get in." Jacob said and started shoving me towards the driver's side. I laughed as he pushed me into the vehicle, dragging Lenny with him. "See how you like it."

I took a seat and looked around, hesitantly sniffing. _Not a smoker._ I breathed a short sigh of relief. The leather was in good shape – at least there was no duct tape anywhere. I poked at a couple of cracks, pulled the visor down, inspecting my reflection and then pushed it back up. "Does the radio work?" I asked, my fingers going to the tape and CD player in the console.

"No," Harry said and I felt myself pout a little. _No music?_ "But," I watched him move around the car, watched him open the trunk, and pulled out a black rectangle with wires sticking out of the back. He came back and handed it to me. "I pulled this out of a Jeep the other day. I think I could throw it in. You know, since your family." Harry's eyes sparkled as he handed it to me.

I flipped the box over. It was a stereo. A nice one with Bluetooth and an aux port. I could hook up my iPod. "Wow." I breathed.

"That's awesome!" Jacob said and pulled it from my hand, flipping it around. "I would _love_ to do a stereo install. I haven't done one yet."

"What do you think?" Harry asked.

I looked around the car, feeling a smile split across my face. "I think it's perfect."

* * *

 **Thanks for the reviews you holy cheeseballs of readitude. This is my first A/U and I wasn't hearing anything good OR bad and it made me want to yeet myself out of a five story building.**

 **tomboygirl2 - canon couples. I'm a ExB stan.**


	6. Chapter 6

_Jacob_

 _October 28, 2011_

"I don't care if you have to run into the burning building _yourself_ ," My mother paced back and forth on our back porch on her cell phone, her eyes red like she was fighting tears. "I am his _wife_. You dispatch for him. I need _him_."

I watched from the back door as she violently snapped her cell phone close, curse a word we weren't allowed to say and then open it to dial a new number. Her hand ran through her thick black hair and then pressed against her cheek.

"Hey, Charlie." She said. "It's Sarah. I was wondering if you knew where Billy was?" She paused and paced. "Yeah, we're um…"

I turned from door and moved to Edward and I's room. After the giant football-player-turned-doctor told us Edward had cancer, he told us to go home, pack an overnight bag and come back in the morning.

We rode back in silence – a suffocating silence that felt like someone had took a gym sock and stuffed it all the way to the back of my throat. I could tell Mom felt the same. Her mouth would open like she wanted to say something, but she would make a little noise and close it.

Eventually, Edward fell asleep, curled up on the back seat in a little ball, his arms jammed all the way in the pocket of his hoodie. I watched him from the rearview mirror. He didn't look _sick_. He looked _tired_. But, he didn't look like he had cancer. What did that even look like? Bald people with tubes sticking out of them – like in the movies?

"Mom," I said as I watched Edward scrunch his face like he was having a bad dream, only to relax a second later. "What's going to happen to Edward?"

Her mouth popped open and I watched as she shifted her face into a smile. "Edward will be fine, baby." Her hand came over and gripped mine. "We'll all be fine." Her eyebrows pulled together and her smile disappeared.

I bit the inside of my cheek as I watched Edward in our room. He had his duffle open on his bed - the same one he used at summer camp. His face was drawn like he was exhausted, one hand holding a bunch of tissues to his nose. I watched as he slowly moved around our room, picking up an item and then moving back to the bed to drop it in.

 _He's going to take hours at this rate._ I felt my lips pitch as he oscillated the room, picking up one item at a time. I felt my mouth pop open. If he grabbed a bunch of shirts or socks or whatever at once then he can be packed quicker.

"Edward," I said and I watched him jump, startled. He didn't know that I was standing there. _He must be so out of it._ I sighed, feeling bad for him. It sucked to know that your brother had cancer. _Actually being the one with cancer?_ That must've sucked elephant chode. I entered the room and grabbed his hand and pulled him out of our bedroom, down the hall and to the living room.

"Where are you taking me?" He asked.

"You need a nap." I said and pushed him towards the couch. He sat down heavily, the tissues still pressed to his face. I pulled the wad from his hands, examined his nose to see if it was still bleeding and when I was satisfied that it wasn't, I dropped the tissues on the coffee table.

"I need to pack." He argued, but didn't move to get back up.

"I can do that." I pushed his shoulder down and he didn't resist. I watched him curl up on the couch, his green eyes flat and dull. I picked up the blue blanket that Nana knitted for us and put it over his shoulders, making sure his bare feet were covered – like Mom did when we were fighting the flu.

His eyes slid shut and his mouth went slack and he started to breathe deep breaths of unconsciousness. I glanced at the kitchen - to the back door where Mom was still pacing around on her cell phone and then turned around and started for our bedroom.

I packed quickly and without thinking too hard, throwing in anything that I could get my hands on. I put in comfy clothes – sweats, pajamas, that sort of thing for him. I packed him lots of socks. His favorite shirts. His hoodie. I put in some books and his Nintendo DS and games. I packed his iPod. I threw in some DVDs of his favorite movies. Then I pulled out my own duffle from underneath Edward's bunk and packed my stuff.

Once I was satisfied that we were packed up, I carried both bags to the front door and set them on the floor for tomorrow and then I went to sit with Edward – who hadn't moved an inch in the twenty minutes I left him - his body curled like a pill bug, one arm hanging loosely over the edge of the couch, the other jammed under his head.

I sat down and put Edward's head in my lap so he didn't have to use his arm as a pillow anymore. He stirred a little, but didn't wake up. I turned on the television, turning the volume way down so it didn't disturb him and rubbed his shoulder, right over a purple bruise.

I was two episodes of _Family Guy_ in when Dad burst through the door. "Sarah?" He called. I glanced down, but Edward stayed asleep even through all the noise.

"Billy." My mom ran to him, her black hair streaming behind her like a flag and threw her arms around him.

"What's going on?"

Mom lost it at that point. She pressed her face into Dad's shoulder, her thin arms tight around his stocky torso as she sobbed. "Edward has cancer."

It was unnerving to see her so upset. Mom cried when she was happy, not _sad_ – like last week when she watched Edward's piano recital. _"That's my boy."_ She said as tears streamed down her face, making Edward blush out of embarrassment. _"My smart, talented boy."_

"My baby has _cancer_." She sobbed.

Dad's expression was mixture of confusion and shock. He pushed Mom away to look into her face. "What did the doctor say?"

She wiped her face. "Leukemia. They're going to admit him tomorrow to do a bone marrow aspiration and then they want to start treatments." She sniffed. "I didn't ask a lot of questions. I just, just…" She dissolved again, her long black hair shaking around her face.

"It's okay." He said and pressed her against him. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. Shh." He held her a long moment, his face pressing against her hair, his black eyes wide.

This couldn't be happening. It was like a nightmare. I glanced at the home phone on the wall, expecting the hospital to call. _"Oops, we messed up and switched his results with another poor soul. Edward is fine. Rest and fluids is all he needs!"_ But it didn't.

It was so messed up. Why _him_? He never did anything. Out of everyone, Edward was the gentlest, nicest person. He always helped Ms. Begay, our elderly neighbor with her groceries and her tiny, dirty poodle. He always did his homework and didn't mind helping with dishes. Why did he have to be the one to get this? It was unfair. I felt my fists ball in anger and tears prickle my eyes. _Unfair._

"Mom?"

I looked down to Edward, who was starting to pick his head up off my lap. I didn't even realize he had woken up.

"Is everything alright?" He asked.

As quick as she started to cry, she stopped – pressing her palms to her face to cool the red and wipe her tears. "Hi, baby." She smiled and pulled away from Dad to kneel in front of the couch. "Are you hungry?"

Edward shook his head and sat up all the way, the blanket in a ball around his knees. "I'm tired."

"I know, honey. I know." She pressed her lips to his forehead, and then her eyes widened. "You're so warm." She pushed his red hair back to feel his forehead. "Billy, can you get the thermometer?"

Dad disappeared down the hall and came back a moment later with the blue oral thermometer. He stuffed it under Edward's tongue. The smell of smoke filled the space around us as Dad stood in front of the couch. I felt a teensy bit better with Dad here. He was always so strong and calm, even when everyone around him was freaking out.

"It's a hundred and three." My mother's eyes widened at Dad when she pulled it out of his mouth. "That's really high. Do you think we should take him in?"

"Kids can have high fevers, Sare." Dad grunted.

"Yeah," Mom rubbed Edward's knee. "But…"

"Mommy," Edward said, his shoulders slumping, his eyes blank and flat. "I don't feel good." He rubbed his face and I watched a dot of blood hit his jeans.

"We're taking him in." Mom announced and wrapped the blanket around him and stood him up. "We'll drive straight to Port Angeles. Come on, baby." She said and led him towards the front door, her arm wrapped around his shoulders. "Jacob, grab my purse and keys, please."

I nodded and stood up, looking up at Dad, who hadn't moved yet. His usual sparkly, humorous eyes were intense on me. I watched his fingers come up and brush my cheek of the tears that had fallen. "It's going to be okay." He said lowly and I felt myself exhale the breath I had been holding.

* * *

 _August 16, 2016_

"Please," I unashamedly begged as we walked next to each other towards the school. "Will you tell me? I'm going to _die_."

For four days Edward had been dodging my question of who he was supposedly in love with. He also has been a moody asshole, constantly snapping at me about stupid shit, even though I _found_ him a car. Like I _said._

"I'll say a nice eulogy at your funeral then." He wheezed as he pulled Lenny next to him, his emerald green eyes as hard as the stones they looked like.

I adjusted both of our backpacks on my shoulders. I had taken his from him, and he protested for about two seconds before he relented. I knew he didn't want to admit it – given how set he was on having a _normal_ school year - but school was taxing him.

That's why I let the moody asshole thing go. I knew it probably had something to do with this mystery girl - since he tended to overanalyze everything – but I also knew probably 90% of it was him just being tired. It sucked to have lungs that sucked.

But, I didn't understand why he wasn't telling me about this girl. We told each other _everything_. I told him about every girl. _Every_ one. And the _one time_ he actually finds a girl himself, his lips are tighter than spandex on fuckin' a sumo wrestler. It was _so_ frustrating.

He stopped on the sidewalk about halfway to his classroom, his hand coming out for support. I automatically moved so that he could grip my arm and I felt my muscles in my abs contract as he leaned his weight on me.

I looked at him as I watched him breathe. He was wearing a maroon cardigan, even though it was a pleasant seventy-five degrees out and his Vans tapped on the ground in impatience with himself. His eyes were rimmed with circles – another sign that he was trying to bite off more than he could chew. I wanted to tell him to take it easy, but that would just open another can of worms and I didn't want to have the _stop-telling-me-what-to-do-it's-my-body_ fight at the moment.

Instead, I tried to guess at who had caught his eye. I didn't know very many Forks girls. So the pool of who I could guess at was shallow. I tried going through the ones I _did_ know. None of which seemed like his type.

Then I wondered what his type _actually_ was. He'd want a _smart_ girl, that's for sure. Someone to talk about books with. Someone into his weird music tastes, as well. Someone witty.

He coughed and I frowned.

 _Someone who will be cool enough to overlook all of his issues._

"Is it a Forks girl?" I asked, taking advantage of the moment he couldn't tell me to 'fuck off' which was his usual response every time I tried to bring it up.

He wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve and and shook his head.

" _La Push_ girl?" I started cataloging all the girls on the rez in my head. He's never shown any interest in anyone before. But, that doesn't mean someone couldn't have pulled a _Pretty Woman_ and gotten hot over the summer.

He shook his head again. "Not." He inhaled. "Telling."

I jerked in frustration, almost taking Edward off his feet. "You are _irritating_."

His face pitched up in a cocky smile. " _I'm_ irritating."

I groaned. "Well, at least tell me what she's _like_?" I tried.

Something shifted in his expression and he averted his eyes to the ground. "She's…different." He said quietly as his breathing evened out.

"That's not _helping_."

He took his backpack from my arm as the last bell rang. "Bye, Jake." He turned and disappeared into the math and science building, pulling Lenny behind him.

I kicked a rock and started for gym – my first period. I was late. While having a Cancer Kid as a brother sucked _ass_ most of the time, there were some perks - including being a permanent late pass.

I sucked in a short breath and pushed him from my mind, for now at least. I had a barbeque to plan for this weekend on First Beach. Which I was _hella_ excited for. I had, like, three girls I was inviting and the boys _and_ it was supposed to be sunny that day. A win-win.

And I had Edward's car to do. My palms itched at the thought of getting under the hood of that Volvo. It wasn't as big of a project car as Leia was, _but_ I get to rebuild a tranny. And Harry was letting me do it all by myself. I almost salivated at that thought.

I loved cars. I did ever since I was a kid. There was something cathartic, therapeutic about getting your hands dirty and _fixing_ something. I was a straight C student and didn't know about math and literature, like Edward. But I _knew_ cars. They had parts that fit together, that went together, that moved together. Cars made _sense_.

I entered the empty locker room and changed quickly into my gym stuff, stuffing my clothes in the tiny locker and then jogged outside to the football field to join the class.

Coach Clapp – an older guy who looked like he could run a couple of laps himself – saw me run up from his place at the starting line of the track, his hands around his clipboard. "Nice of you to join us, Mr. Black." He said and marked me off the attendance sheet.

"My brother need-," I started, massaging the back of my neck. He _knew_ my brother. Because my brother was the first kid in like twenty-five years that got a medical release for all four years of PE.

He waved me off, his eyes never coming off his clipboard. "We're running a mile. Do four around the football field, please."

"Yes, sir."

I started jogging on the track, speeding up when I identified a nice ass and a blonde ponytail. I came up next her and started keeping pace. "Hey," I said. "I'm Jake. I don't think we've met yet."

Her eyes widened at me. Yes, I was tall and I was also pretty broad. Edward called me a linebacker, Mom called me her 'big boy' and joked that she should've checked the cereal for growth additives when I was little. Everyone else took me all in like I was a moving vessel of a person, like an aircraft carrier with legs. Luckily, for _girls_ , they mostly liked what they saw. "Lauren Mallory."

I glanced at her purple Nikes. "Can I tie your shoes?" I asked, feeling my grin creep up on my face.

She looked down confused at her obviously tied shoes.

I let my eyes go wide with innocence. "What? I don't want you _falling_ for anyone else."

Her grin widened. "Smooth, ex-lax."

"I try." I let my smile widen and I flexed a bicep.

"You're cute. You from La Push?"

"What gave you _that_ idea?" I kidded.

She laughed and we lapsed in silence for the rest of the mile. She was slower than what I could've gone, but I didn't mind – her sports bra barely contained her and her shorts lived up to their name. I was _perfect_ going a little slow with that view.

When we finished and grouped up with the others and waited for the rest at the base of the bleachers, Lauren fixed her hair and took a drink from her water bottle. "We should hang out." She said and touched my arm, her small fingers squeezing my bicep.

"We should." I flirted, letting my eyes trace all over her.

I should thank Leah later for breaking up with me. I was having _way_ too much fun as philanderer. _Man whore._ I could hear Edward mutter it under his breath. Perhaps. I grinned wide. But, I was having a blast and half.

I almost missed the coach's directions for boys on the football field and girls on the track. I jogged my normal speed and caught up with everyone. After a short introduction to football -which I rolled my eyes at. My dad has been following the Seahawks since he could comprehend what a football was – we dressed in our flags and teamed up.

I was placed into an offensive tackle position in front of a pretty boy, Zac Efron looking kid who probably should've avoided a defensive position like his life depended on it. He looked like the type of guy that drove a BMW 1 Series just to Instagram the logo of his steering wheel.

"You were talking to Lauren." He said it as a statement and not a question, his chin tipping up at the end as we started to get into position.

"Yeah," I said as a challenge and squatted, placing my hand on the ground in a readying position. "She your girlfriend or something?"

Something flashed in his eyes. And I understood. _Ah._ Not yet, but he was chasing. I grinned. _Let's have some fun._

"She's pretty hot. I haven't gotten her number yet. But, I don't know." I goaded with a shrug, completing bantering at this point just to get a rise out of this guy. "She seems like a tease…"

His expression flashed with anger and he glared at me the same time the ball was snapped. I rose to my feet in a flash, grabbed Zac Efron by the shoulders and forced him to the ground in a pancake block. His glare twisted into fury and he jumped to his feet, ready to bump chests with me. He stopped when I rose to my full height and crossed my arms.

I cocked my head as I looked down at him. "What are you going to do about it?" A multi-purposed question meant for the block _and_ Lauren.

"Fucking Indians." He said with a push and moved to take a tight end position at Coach Clapp's direction. "Go back to the reservation."

The rest of the period went uneventfully. I was moved around in positions – mostly defensive lineman or guard because of my size. Little white boys would run into me and I kept putting them on their asses, barely breaking a sweat in the process. I thought about Edward's mystery girl, still trying to figure out who that was, the barbeque on Saturday, and if Mom would let me go out after dinner to scavenge for parts at the dump.

"Jacob?" Coach Clapp stopped me at the field entrance as I started for the locker room at the end of the period. I sighed, anticipating a chewing out for being late to class. _My brother had lung cancer, you asshole. He moves slower that molasses and needs help._

"Have you thought about going out for the football team?" He looked up at me expectantly.

I was caught off guard by the question, feeling my eyebrows knit in confusion. "Um…"

"Tryouts are tomorrow." He handed me a flyer. "You are an absolute natural on the field. And with your _size?_ You would have recruiters beating down your door to get you to play with them." He laughed.

"Recruiters?" I asked dumbly as I scanned the flyer.

"Yeah," He looked surprised that I had never thought about this before. "You know, for college?

" _College_?" My voice rose in disbelief.

"Son, have you thought about your future _at all_?"

I stared at the old coach like he had sprouted a second head and was chanting incantations in Swedish.

Within the walls of a hospital, you look forward to nurse shift changes - where the crappy mean nurse is switched out with the nice one that sneaks you in so you can spend time with your brother outside of visiting hours. You look forward to Wednesdays, because that's when they serve burritos in the cafeteria. You look forward to the doctor coming in to give updates during morning rounds. You look forward to taking your brother _home._

The short answer to his question was no. I haven't thought about my future. You just _can't_ when when the one dictating it is the monster that was cancer.

I stared at the flyer – it was bright green with a clipart of a flying football on it – trying to imagine myself on a field under the bright lights, being scouted by _colleges._ I tried imagining myself at _college._ It felt funny in my head. Foreign.

But, also kind of cool.

* * *

 _October 29, 2011_

Twenty-four hours after Edward was diagnosed with cancer, he was brought back to the emergency room, declared to have an infection of some sort, promptly moved onto the pediatric ward with the Loony Toon characters on the walls, had to have some bone marrow removed or something (we had to wait in the waiting room while they did that), and then given a bunch of fluids and antibiotics through an IV in his arm.

Twenty-four hours after Edward was diagnosed with cancer, Dr. McCarty came into Edward's room to go over the "game plan" of beating it.

"Chemotherapy," Dr. McCarty explained at the foot of Edward's bed, a chart in his hands. He completely filled the small space that separated the hospital bed from the wall the television sat on. "There's two phases: an induction phase where we try and kill off as many cancer cells as possible and then a consolidation phase where we try and keep them from coming back."

"It comes back?" Mom asked. She was sitting on the bed, cuddling Edward – who they made change in hospital gown, even after my protest. I felt like all my packing skills went to waste – his face pinched as he snoozed against her collarbone.

"There's about one-in-five chance of a relapse." Dr. McCarty nodded.

"Mommy," Edward croaked. He was still out of it, coming off of anesthesia from the bone marrow draw, his eyes fluttered open and he looked around the room with confusion.

"I'm here, baby." She murmured and rubbed his arm.

That satisfied him. His eyes slid back shut.

"After a week of the induction phase of chemo, we'll do another bone marrow biopsy to confirm that we got all the cancer cells."

"Will Edward lose his hair?" I blurted. I had taken the plastic chair that sat on the wall next to Edward's bed. Dad sat on the edge of the vinyl lounger, his fingers laced together and his face intense as he listened to the doctor.

"Yes," Dr. McCarty nodded. "He will."

Mom made a noise and inserted her fingers into Edward's hair. He had just gotten it cut last week. I remembered the haircut lady in her black smock commenting on how thick it was.

"So, if you kill it and then it comes back, then what happens?" My dad asks.

"Then we do it again." Dr. McCarty nodded. "He can be reinduced into remission over and over with chemo as long as his organs can take it. Or we look into a bone marrow transplantation."

"Bone marrow transplantation?"

"Where we take another healthy person's bone marrow and put it in Edward to stimulate healthy cell growth. Usually a sib-," His sentence dropped off as he looked at all of us like a puzzle. _One of these is not like the other._

My mother's arms tightened protectively around Edward. "We aren't in contact with his biological parents." Her voice went icy like it did when she would condescendingly explain to the over-curious grocery store clerk why he didn't look like the rest of us. Like, she was mad that anyone would infer that Edward was anyone else's but _hers_.

Dr. McCarty cleared his voice. "We're going to put him on the registry for an unrelated donor and we can test all of you as well to see you're a match." He said. "There's only five proteins that need to be matched to be a viable donor." He held up his five fingers.

I looked at his hand, trying to figure out the odds of one of us being a match for Edward. I wondered if they were as bad as getting cancer in the first place.

* * *

 _August 16, 2016_

"Would you be okay for a couple of hours after school tomorrow?" I asked Edward as we drove home. "I need to do something."

He paused his elderly iPod classic which had all sixty gigs full of music. I was convinced that he wasn't capable of loving anything more than he did that thing. "What?" His eyebrows twisted together in confusion as he regarded me.

I felt my face flush. I briefly thought about not telling him, since we were keeping _secrets_ from each other now. But, he was going to find out eventually. "I think I'm going to tryout for the football team." I mumbled.

I didn't think about it, anymore. I was going to it. I usually laughed at douche bag jocks, but I liked the idea of potentially being _scouted_. Like, have a person from a school come and watch me play and potentially offer me a scholarship? _Me_ go to _college_? I didn't even think college was on the radar for me. I would be a first generation Black to _go to college._ That would be so _cool._

Not to mention, I was actually pretty good at sports. Football especially. Quil and Embry hated to play with me because I put everyone on their asses. There weren't extracurricular team sports at the Tribal school. We weren't big enough. However, I think I would've played if there was. I squinted. _Maybe._

And I would look so _good_ in a letterman jacket.

"Football?" He scoffed. "Lone wolf Jacob Black is participating in _organized sports_?"

My face blazed brighter. "The coach watched me play today at gym and said that I could maybe get scouted."

He looked at me for a moment and then his crooked grin stretched across his face. "Don't forget us little people when you're playing for the NFL."

I laughed at him. "Edward _who_?"

I knew Edward was going to be easy to convince. It was Mom and Dad that were going to be harder. The fees, for one thing. I spent my birthday money from Nana on Leia. I would have to hit up the Bank of Parents and I knew that would be met with some resistance.

What I was most worried about was messing with the schedule. Our world revolved around Edward and his care. Football would seriously cut into being the round-the-clock personal assistant and chauffeur to my infirm brother. I had a plan, though. A _good_ plan.

"Football?" My mother said in disbelief, the pot of pasta hitting the dining room table with a slam. "Like, _football_?"

"Hear him out, Sare." My Dad said, his hand reaching for the pasta spoon to serve himself up a plate. He smiled a little. "Sports are good for kids. Teaches them character."

"I know that." My mother said and sat down, removing her potholders. "But what about Edward? I assume there will be multiple practices during the week? And then games?"

"Mom," He groaned from across the table. "I'll bring a book or something. Do homework on the bleachers? I'll be fine."

"Your D-tanks only last eight hours, baby." She turned to Edward.

"I'll bring an E-tank to switch to." He shrugged. "It's no big deal, really."

"Then we'll have to order more tanks."

"I can pick him up." Dad volunteered. "On the days I don't work."

"So, what about the other days? And the cost of gas?"

Edward made a frustrated noise as he twirled pasta around on his fork. "If I had my license, then it wouldn't _matter_."

They bickered back and forth across the table about oxygen tanks. Edward sighed a lot. Dad ate his pasta and grumbled. I grew increasingly frustrated with a conversation that was derailed two seconds into it.

"Can I talk?" I interrupted and watched a pair of green eyes and a two pairs of brown snap to me. "I have a plan. Edward can hitch a ride home with Quil on practice days-,"

I watched my mother's mouth open to protest.

"And in exchange, we give him a ride on non-practice days. Keep it even, you know?"

My mom's mouth pressed closed and I watched her think about it, her eyes darting to Edward, who was chewing on his dinner. Her gaze snapped back to me. "How much?"

I sucked in a breath. "There's a hundred-dollar participation fee for the away games and the equipment is fifty dollars to rent for the semester. I need to get a physical and provide my own cleats and girdle. And then if I _letter_." I emphasized that. "Then I can buy a jacket."

My mother did the math in her head. "That's like three hundred dollars."

I nodded.

"Do you have the money?"

I shook my head, feeling my lips press into a thin line.

"Jacob," She groaned. "We can't just cough up three hundred dollars."

"I was thinking I could _borrow_ it and pay you back when I pick up shifts with Harry."

My dad made a noise and reached for seconds. "We could use the money we got from Charlie for the truck."

"We were going to go on a vacation with that." She said.

"No we weren't." Edward snorted under his breath.

"Baby-,"

Edward's fork hit his plate. "Mom. Can you feasibly see us going on vacation? With my tanks? Concentrator? Nebulizer?"

"We'll make it work. We deserve to get away." She turned and placed her hand on my arm. "And I'm not against you playing football, Jake. I'm over the moon you want to get involved at school. I'm just trying to be _realistic_ and we _realistically_ don't have the money right now."

"I'll pay for it." Edward said. "I have the money."

"What about your car?" I asked, feeling gutted that he was even offering.

He shrugged and removed the cannula so he could go back to our room. "I'm not going to be getting my license for awhile." He said and stood up. "The money should go to a good cause."

"You should spend your money on car, Edward." I argued. "I'll figure something else out."

"It's okay." He said and rubbed his nose where the cannula sat. "I want to help."

"No, no." My mom's hand shook in the air. She turned to me, her eyes intense. "Are you serious about this, Jake? Like, you're not just going to pick this up only to drop it when you get bored in a month?"

I nodded and motioned towards the flyer. "Mom I could get a _scholarship_. Play for college? _Go to college_? You know how big of a deal that is?"

She smiled. "My babies at college does have a nice ring to it."

"Professional football." My dad grunted. "No playing for the Patriots, though."

"Okay," My mom's grin increased in size. "I think-,"

There was a crash and we all turned to see Edward on the floor next to his chair, his eyes closed and his lips blue. Alarm flashed through me like a lightning strike. Immediately, we were all on our feet.

"Edward!" My mother was on him in a flash. She turned to me. "Get the mask."

I was already running to where we kept the living room concentrator under the couch's side table and grabbed the oxygen mask and the pulse oximeter. I passed it on to my dad like a relay baton who switched the cannula to the mask and pressed it against Edward's face.

My mother gathered Edward against her, her arm around his shoulder as she lifted him up to a sitting position. "Edward?" She asked, her other hand on the oxygen mask. "Baby?"

"Sixty-two." My dad said as he squatted next to my brother and read the pulse oximeter clipped to his finger. "Sixty-seven."

 _Come on, Edward._ I thought, feeling my eyebrows knit together as I watched his chest inhale and exhale and the mask fog up with his breathing. _Wake up._

His color came back then his consciousness. His eyelids fluttered opened and he took in all of our faces and then blushed crimson. "Did I pass out?" His hand went to the oxygen mask.

My mother pressed her cheek against Edward's forehead. "Yes, baby. You feeling alright? No chest pain?"

"I'm okay." He said and looked at me. "Is Jacob playing football?"

I grinned. "Sure am."

"Good." He closed his eyes and inhaled. "Good."

* * *

 **How's everyone doing? Good? Bad? y'all aren't talking it's worrying me.**


	7. Chapter 7

_Bella_

 _August 18, 2016_

After approximately eleven and a half hours of interaction – one hour a day during Chemistry, one hour a day during lunch and then the combined time of walking together to our next classes between those activities – I had decided that, in fact, I wanted to put forth the effort to pursue Edward romantically.

It was not a decision I came to lightly. I actually wrestled with it all week. I made pro and con lists in my head. I looked out for signs that this was a bad idea – cosmically or otherwise. I entertained the idea of other boys in comparison to Edward (a brief exercise – there weren't any boys in this school that held a candle to Edward). I talked to my mom and asked for her advice, which was _"If this boy has caught your eye, Bella, then he is obviously a different breed. You take things like this way too seriously. Trust your judgment and have fun."_ I also studied him – which was my favorite part of my decision making process – like one would a painting at the Louvre.

There was a couple of conclusions I came to when I did that last thing:

1) He was intelligent. And there wasn't anything more attractive than functional and cognitive brain cells. At least, in my book. Our first quiz – which was on the groups of the periodic table – he got a 105%. He read good books like _Fahrenheit 451_ and _As You Like It_ and _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest._ He knew history and literature and art.

2) He was different. He looked at things a different way. I appreciated that because I'd like to think I looked at things differently too. We spent the couple minutes that we had together before class and our lunch periods discussing things like why coffee tasted better when it was raining or that there was no way that Bruce Willis couldn't have not known he was dead in the _Sixth Sense_ or the state of Venezuela's economic decline. I was always surprised with his views and his answers. I was surprised when he gave me a new perspective on viewing things. Surprised and very, very pleased.

3) He was physically attractive. I internally cringed at that one - but it made it onto the list anyway. I liked looking at his nice jaw line and the color of his eyes. I liked his tousled red hair. I liked how tall he was. I liked his broad shoulders.

4) He was into me too. I think. While I still wasn't sure if that text message from Edward to Jacob that I accidentally read was about me, I could see that Edward was at least somewhat interested in me. He hadn't asked for my number or hit on me or anything like that, but I would catch him staring at me during class or lunch. He always waited for me to walk with him. He always smiled when saw me. That was better – in my opinion – than being flirted with. Ten times better.

But, despite all of his positives, there were some negatives. The oxygen being the primary one. The condition that caused the need to have supplemental oxygen being the second.

We didn't talk about it. I could see that it made him self-conscious and I didn't want to make him uncomfortable. He would always pull the tank closer to himself at lunch so it wouldn't get bumped and when he had to stop to catch his breath when we walked together to the Lit building, he always blushed with embarrassment. I guess whatever he had was under control, since he didn't make a big deal about it. But, I worried anyway and a bunch of questions always bounced around in my head when I studied him.

 _If I was with Edward and something happened where he needed medical assistance, would I be up to the task? Would I be okay with his medical needs dictating where we could go and what we could do? Would I be fine with him putting himself first?_

I wasn't sure.

So, I wrestled. _Should I pursue him? Should I not?_

It was my dad that finally squashed all my reservations.

"Whatcha cooking, Bells?" He asked as he put on his shoes, sitting at his worn dining room table. He was dressed to go fishing in his dungarees and rubber boots.

"Macaroni salad." I answered as I stirred the mayo into the cooled noodles. "I'm going to a barbeque at First Beach later."

"Oh," He sounded surprised and I looked up to him. We had the same eyes – wide and brown and the same thick, brown hair. "Someone from school invite you?"

"Yeah, Jake Black invited me." I blushed. "And Edward." Edward invited me on Wednesday during lunch. I didn't have the heart to tell him that Jake beat him to the punch.

He smiled at the mention of his favorite family. "I'm glad you're making friends and those are good boys to have as friends." Charlie stood up and put on his old ball cap that had a hook jammed into the bill.

"They're both nice." I smiled as I stirred. "I think I get along better with Edward, though."

Charlie chuckled. "I figured. He's a smart one, like you. It's just too bad…"

"No." I waved my hand, cutting him off. "I don't know anything and I want to let him tell his story himself when he's ready, _if_ he wants to tell me at all."

Charlie nodded in agreement. Our eye color and hair were not the only thing we had in common. My rock solid principles were also definitely inherited from him. "I think it's good that you want to be his friend, Bells." He said. "He needs someone like you to look past the sick to see the person on the inside, you know, make him feel…" He shrugged. "Normal."

I felt my lip insert itself in-between my teeth at Charlie's simple, but profound words. All the questions I had about his condition suddenly ceased. It didn't matter what he had or what he could and could not do. Things _break_ – curling irons, cup handles, cars, Wi-Fi modems, even humans. And that was okay. Normal even - like Charlie said. So what if he needed some assistance? I had my tonsils taken out when I was eight, someone else out there was in a wheelchair, Edward needed oxygen. _Normal._

I smiled, now completely sure in my feelings and intentions with Edward. "Thanks, Dad."

Charlie looked at me with brief confusion and then picked up his keys. "I'm gonna head out."

"Okay, have fun." I said and finished the macaroni salad.

He stopped at the doorway, his face twisting uncomfortably. "Um, I don't have to make a speech about underage drinking or anything like that, right?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

He looked relieved. "Good. See you later."

Now that my decision was 100% made, I felt very _light_ – like I was bouncing on the moon. Zero gravity. Excited, even? Today was going to be a good day. I could already see it. _The stars are aligned._ Is what Renee would say. _The universe has spoken._

* * *

 _August 18, 2016_

I drove to La Push with my contribution to the food efforts sitting on the passenger seat of Earl and my cell phone in my hand as I followed the directions of my map app to First Beach. Was there a Second Beach? I wondered. Or was it first because it was better than all the other beaches? The golden standard of beaches?

I chewed on my lip as I thought about it, my window down and my arm out. It was sunny. And not just sun-peeking-through-clouds sunny. It was the whole shebang: clear blue skies, small, white puffy clouds, and the brilliant sun. I almost forgotten what that looked like in the eleven days I had been in Forks.

And it was another cosmic sign that I was making a good decision regarding Edward.

My truck rumbled too loudly for me to feasibly listen to music, but if I could listen to music, I would be listening to Katrina & the Waves on a loop over and over. _I'm walking on sunshine and don't it feel good?_

I found the barbeque area pretty quick as the charcoal grill in a small picnic area on the edge of the beach was going full-swing - a pillar of dark smoke rising towards the heavens like an animal sacrifice to the gods. Jake was manning it in a pair of swim trunks and an old t-shirt, a spatula in his hand as he flipped burgers.

People – mostly Quileute kids, but some kids from Forks too - milled the park benches, dressed like they were going to go swimming. I looked at the grey, churning waters in the distance. _That's swimmable?_ Looked _way_ too cold to me. I shivered just _thinking_ about it.

I frowned when I didn't immediately see Edward. It would not do with my plans if he wasn't here. He said he was coming too. A momentary note of anxiety sang in me, flipping my stomach over. _Is he okay?_

"Bella!" Jacob greeted when he saw me. He wrapped me in a hug, his shoulders completely engulfing me. "How's it going?"

"Good." I smiled and offered my Tupperware. "I made macaroni salad."

Jacob's eyes widened and he took the food and placed it on the ice of one of the coolers. "You didn't have to do that."

"Not a problem at all." I grinned. "How did the tryouts go?" He told me that he was going out for the football team yesterday in Spanish between bouncing up and down in his desk from excitement.

" _So_ great!" He said. "I was running circles around everyone."

"That's awesome!" I celebrated.

"We'll see, though." His eyes rolled. "I'll know if I made the cut on Monday."

I pretended to scan around, like I didn't already take a complete inventory of every face within a fifty-yard radius. "Where's Edward?"

"He's sitting on the beach." Jacob motioned over his shoulder with his spatula and then pointed at the grill. "The smoke doesn't agree with him. He's gotta stay upwind."

I nodded, understanding and feeling a million times better. "I'm going to go say hi."

Jacob didn't answer me, though. His attention was on another girl – Lauren, I think her name was – who was wearing a bikini top and a pair of high-waisted shorts. She handed him a soda and he shook it up and sprayed her with it. She shrieked with laughter and he responded by wrapping his arm around her waist.

I seized that moment to make my escape.

I took off my Birks when I got to the beach's edge and walked barefoot across the sand. The gulls cried above my head and I could hear the crash of the waves against the outcroppings of rocks. The wind whipped my hair around my face and I pushed it back to keep it out of my eyes.

I sucked in a breath of seabreeze as I took it all in. If Washington was like this all the time, then I might actually enjoy living here. But, this day was a rare exception to what it was usually like – cold, wet, miserable.

Edward was sitting on a plaid blanket with his knees pulled up to his chest, his heavily stickered oxygen cart parked behind him like a guarding sentinel.

"Hey," I said and plopped down next to him on the blanket.

I guess I startled him, because he jumped, the paperback in his hand flying. I watched him remove his earbuds and blush red. "Hey." He greeted. "I didn't see you there."

My eyebrows pulled into concern and I picked up his book for him. "Sorry if I scared you."

"I'm okay." He assured.

I looked down at the book. " _The Spanish Tragedy_? Some light beach reading?"

He grinned. "Completely casual."

I narrowed my eyes and held his book open. "Are you, like, secretly some depraved sadist that enjoys reading about gory murders and revenge tragedies in some sort of weird way to satisfy your internalized Machiavellianism?"

"You got me pegged."

"Psychopath." I joked and handed him his book back. He laughed his nice breathy laugh.

I realized that I had a major issue with my decision - I had no idea how to initiate a romantic relationship. None. It was upsetting to me that I didn't think of this before. _I have decided, after much mental debate and psychological struggle, that I like you and I think we should be together._ I was a direct person, but that was a little _too_ direct, I think.

And I didn't want to mess this up.

I stretched my legs out in front of me next to Edward's as I thought of ways to broach the subject. He was in cargo shorts, so I compared my pale coloring to Edward's fair, but ginger complexion. I was white like a corpse and he was covered in a fine dusting of red freckles.

"I like your shirt." He said.

I looked down at my worn Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt that had the hem jammed into my favorite pair of high-waisted cut-off shorts. "You like the Peppers?"

He nodded. "My Dad loves them. He had their whole discography. I think I listened to his copy of _Californication_ in my old CD player like a million times."

"My mom loves them too." I picked at flaking screen print. "This is actually her shirt. She saw them in ninety-six in LA."

"That's so cool." He said. "Your mom sounds like a cool person."

"She's crazy." I said and looked out onto the water. "And wild. And free. Gorgeous. Wise. Philosophical." I felt my eyebrows knit as I watched the waves crash, melancholy filling my chest and making it heavy. There weren't enough adjectives in the English language for Renee. She was just _Renee._

"Do you miss her?" His voice went low and quiet.

"Yeah, I do." I turned and looked at him. His green eyes were a soft opaque, like looking through ancient sea glass. _Beautiful._ I could feel my pulse quicken as I stared into them.

"Why'd you move out here, then?"

I shrugged and averted my eyes to the plaid print of the blanket. "My mom needed her space. She just got married again. I didn't want to be a third wheel."

"That makes sense." He twisted his oxygen tubing around his finger. "Being the third wheel is hard." His eyes dropped down to his lap.

"You sound like you've had experience."

He snorted. "Have you _met_ my brother? He's like being related to a politician, a television personality and a toddler high on a brick of Pixie Stick dust all at the same time. He's the most charming guy I know."

"He definitely has a knack for making friends."

"You're telling me." His expression shifted as he continued to loop his tubing around his pointer finger. "I don't know how he does it. He makes it look so _easy._ I can't even get, like, the lunch lady to say 'good afternoon' to me back."

"You don't think you have friends?" I asked, feeling sad over the sudden downward shift of his mood. It was like being prickled by a poky cactus. I rubbed my arms of of the sensation.

All of a sudden, there was shrieking and I turned to watch Lauren, Jake, Quil, Embry and a couple other kids all run towards the water, stripping t-shirts off and kicking off sandals in the process. They collided with the edge of the water and the shrieking got louder. I guess my suspicions were correct: the water was cold.

Edward sighed and I turned back to face him. He tapped his flip flops together. "I think I'm a third wheel."

"You know that I'm your friend, right?" That came out more intense than I intended. I felt my eyes bore into his. I could see them turning with emotions – fluid, alive - like watching the bottom of a tide pool teem with life.

"Honestly?" He started, his face going red. "I thought you only hung out with me out of pity."

" _Pity_?" I sputtered, feeling my own face go red. Not with embarrassment. No. With anger, disbelief, disappointment.

I started cataloging all of our conversations in the last five days in my head, trying to figure out where I gave him the impression that I only hung out with him because I felt _sorry_ for him. I don't recall anything other than pleasant conversations. Good, meaningful, stimulating interactions.

I turned my head so he wouldn't see me tear up. I had a horrible habit of crying when I got mad. "I don't know what I did or said to garner such a low opinion, but I'm sorry if I offended you in some way." I thought about just getting up and walking off. Would he chase after me? My breathing picked up at the thought.

I felt a hand – the fingertips cool, even though the sun was hot overhead – on my arm. I turned to Edward, whose face was regretful, but twisted into full-on remorse when he saw the tears in my eyes. "You didn't let me finish." He said quietly.

I twisted my head back around to face the water, my eyes focused intensely on the white tips of the waves to keep the waterworks from spilling over. "Okay, then finish." I snapped.

"I thought that at first." He clarified. "But, I don't anymore. I _do_ think of you as my friend. You might be my only friend, actually."

I sniffed and got control of my voice so it wouldn't crack. _Damn angry tears._ "What made you think that in the first place?"

His blushed deepened and his eyes darted to the group of kids in the water. "Because, that's how I always get treated." He said lowly, just above a whisper.

Altruism. At least, that's what I thought made my skin raise in goosebumps when Edward got sad – which I guess was slightly stemmed from pity, at least it did at first – but, our eleven and half hours of interaction made me realize there was more to it than that. I _cared_ about him. I wanted to make him feel more than a vessel for a dysfunctional set of organs. I wanted him to feel _alive_ with _me_.

"Edward," I breathed. "I really, honestly, truly, thoroughly _do not_ care that you pull an oxygen cart around. I like hanging out with you because you have good taste in music and are smart and funny and because you are _you_."

He regarded me for a moment. A split second of bright, sizzling white intensity that hardened his green eyes into the jewels they mimicked.

And then in the next heartbeat it morphed into his nice, crooked smile. His eyes softened. "Don't forget my devilish good looks." His eyebrows wiggled up and and down in teasing.

I felt my own smile find its way on my face. I pushed him on the shoulder and laughed, turning so I was on my hip. "I would _never_."

He had turned at the same time and we ended up so close we were bumping chests. So close I could see the gold glittering in his eyes. So close I could feel his breath exhaling through his lips blow on my face. I froze, feeling my skin burn like it was set on fire.

 _I could kiss him._

I had spent the whole time I was on this blanket trying to come up with how I wanted to tell him I have decided that I liked him. Not even realizing that the most efficient, clearest way to convey my feelings would be not to use words at all.

But before I could make my move, he spastically scooched back, his face tomato red. I sat up, pressing my own blush from my face with my fingertips. We sat in silence and I listened to Edward's labored breathing and watched the waves crash against the shore.

If I had any doubt in my head about my decision at all then it had been completely obliterated in the last two minutes. My head swam and I felt light, _high_ \- like my insides had suddenly been turned into bubbles and were slowly floating away towards the atmosphere. I felt like a crack addict after taking their first hit. I wanted _more._ I wanted Edward to hold me, to wrap me in his arms. To push my hair out my face with his hand. I wanted him to kiss me. Warm and soft and…

"His name is Lenny."

"What?" I asked dumbly, crashing back to earth like the Apollo 13. I turned my head to look at him.

He reached behind him and shook the tank. It rattled in its holder. "You called it my 'oxygen cart,' but it has a name. His name is Lenny."

I grinned at him. "Like Kravitz?"

"No, like Small." He said. "From _Of Mice & Men_ by Steinbeck."

I opened my mouth, but I couldn't find words, so I just shook my head and smiled at him.

"What?" He asked, his eyes going wide and his cheeks lighting red again.

"You're just…" I sucked in a breath. "Really _fucking_ rad."

I shifted before he could say anything more and leaned over, stretching my arm across his chest and almost completely in his lap. I breathed him in and reveled in his body heat. I heard his already gasping breaths increase in intensity at the close proximity.

"What are you doing?" He asked between inhales.

I didn't answer, though, I just wiggled the car back and forth. "Nice to meet you, Lenny." I introduced as seriously as possible. "My name is Bella. I'm new here, but I'm willing to learn." I looked up at Edward and smiled. "As long as Edward's willing to keep me around."

* * *

 _August 19, 2016_

Edward asked me out on a date.

I stared at my ceiling as I laid in bed, still trying to sift through the events of yesterday. After hanging out on beach, we were convinced by a very wet Jacob to come eat. After which, we promptly went back to hanging out on the blanket until we watched the sun set over the horizon – a beautiful watercolor painting of purples and reds and pinks.

My cell phone buzzed and I snatched it up, knowing full well who was texting me at – I glanced at the clock – 7:13 in the morning.

 **Is it an acceptable hour to text you?**

We were in the middle of talking about how _Fight Club_ was the _Ulysses_ of the modern century and watching the sun disappear past its horizon when Edward suddenly jerked on the blanket. "We should go see a movie together."

"Okay," I said. "When?"

"To…morrow?" I could see him blush even in the dim twilight. He cleared his voice. "Are you doing anything tomorrow?"

I looked out onto the waters and pretended to think. I did not have anything planned for tomorrow, except for maybe doing my homework on my laptop while sitting on the floor next to Charlie's Wi-Fi modem that was purchased when Brad Pitt was dating Jennifer Aniston.

I, in fact, was _anticipating_ that he would ask me out. Because, if he wasn't going to, I _was_. It would not do with my decision if nobody actually made the first move. Actually, that would be the opposite of my plan. And I may not have been well versed on how to initiate romantic relationship, but I knew it did have to start _somewhere._ A date being the most logical of those options.

"I think I can do tomorrow." I said lightly, casually and felt like the pillar of light that sat on top of the Luxor pyramid in Vegas that everyone claims you can see from space when I watched him smile.

We exchanged numbers – on the pretense of making plans – and then went home and promptly texted each other until two in the morning about everything and anything. We started with our favorite restaurants (mine: Filiberto's; his: Sully's Diner) which segued into our opinions the new _Star Wars_ movies (mine: _Rogue One_ was acceptable; his: J.J. Abrams is ruining the franchise) that segued into ranking Tarantino movies, where he finally succumbed to sleep.

I picked up my phone and texted back.

 **Is 7 in the morning really an acceptable hour for anything?**

I got up and headed for the bathroom. I could smell bacon frying from downstairs and ESPN speculating on Tom Brady's career in this upcoming season playing from the television set.

"Bells?" Charlie called as I creaked around the second floor.

 _Nope. I have transformed overnight into an Australian cattle dog named Geronimo. Yes, it's me. Who else would be stomping around your second floor?_ "Yeah." I as I descended the stairs in my pajamas to fetch some coffee.

 **Plenty of things – a light jog, a cup of tea, open heart surgery, philosophical contemplation.**

I smiled at my cell phone as I read his text and padded into the kitchen.

 **All four simultaneously?** I texted back.

"Did you have fun yesterday at the beach?" Charlie asked as he flipped bacon over in the frying pan. I opened the fridge to get the half n' half, pulled a coffee cup out of the cupboard and moved to the coffeemaker without even taking my eyes off my cellphone.

 **Efficient.** He texted back. **What are you doing this morning?** Was sent in a separate message.

 **Charlie is making his special – eggs and bacon. Although, philosophical contemplation may have just made it onto the to-do list.**

"Bells?"

"What?" I looked up into my father's expectant face, into our matching pairs of eyes.

I looked at his outfit of sweats and a t-shirt. He was not planning on going out today. _Pre-season_. Which, I was starting to figure out that Charlie adhered to a very specific schedule that revolved around meals, fishing and the NFL schedule.

"Did you have fun at the beach last night?" He repeated.

My phone vibrated and my eyes darted down. **As it should.** **I have a book recommendations that might help in the philosophical contemplation department, if you would like.**

"Yeah," I answered and sipped coffee out of a mug that said _Camping is In-tents._

 **If they're revenge tragedies, then I'm not so sure if I want them.**

"Are you texting your mother?"

"No." I answered and watched the three dots form in the lower left-hand corner as Edward composed his reply. _Text faster, dammit._

"Oh," He said, surprised. "Someone from school?"

"Yes." I answered.

"A boy?" He guessed, his voice rising in pitch as he inferred that this person I was obsessively responding to was not completely platonic. "Or a girl?" I watched his brow furrow as he considered the possibility that I might be homosexual.

 **Not revenge tragedies**. He finally replied. **Have you seen Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy?**

As I was not a liar and I didn't see the point of keeping my blossoming relationship with Edward a secret. So, I told Charlie the truth. "I'm texting Edward."

 **Isn't that that movie with the guy that plays Bilbo in the Hobbit?** I texted back.

His eye widened. "Are you guys…?" His hand went to his head as he composed a sentence that broached the delicate subject of teenaged romance. "…dating?"

I liked the sentence of 'Edward and I' combined with 'are dating.' But, I didn't want to get ahead of myself. I shrugged. "I'm not sure yet. Although, we are going to the movies later."

My phone vibrated and my attention diverted. **Yes. But, it is also the greatest literary work of the twentieth century. It will make you laugh, make you cry. It's my favorite book.** **I'll let you borrow it.**

"On a date?"

I took another sip of my coffee and smiled. **I'm honored that you would share this deeply personal area of your life with me. Can I give you my favorite book as a trade?**

 **Of course!**

"Yeah," I answered. "I think it is."

He transferred breakfast to two plates and handed me one with a fork. I watched him migrate to to his worn, maroon La-Z-Boy that was strategically placed for perfect viewing capabilities in front of his television set.

I sat at the dining room table and stuffed eggs in my mouth as I talked to Edward. The only sounds coming from the TV set and my vibrating cell phone.

"Edward?" Charlie asked after about five minutes of silent eating. "Not…Jacob?"

Jacob didn't even blip on my radar. At least, not in that capacity. I liked Jacob. But, Edward was…different. In the most intriguing, amazing, wonderful way. But, I also understood the subtext of what Charlie was asking. _Are you sure it's the damaged one you're talking to?_

"No," I answered. "I like Edward."

"Bells," Charlie started. "Are you going to be okay…with…?"

"With the oxygen?" I finished for him, my voice a little too intense. "I've put a lot of thought into it and I'm fine with it."

"Well, that's not all, Bella." He said. "He's-,"

"I said I wanted him to tell me, Dad." I snapped. Too harsh. Too _defensive._ But, it was _Charlie_ that convinced me to do it. I was a little confused that he was trying to talk me out of it now.

"Okay, okay." My father backpedaled. "I just don't want to see the kid hurt, is all."

I stood up and moved to the living room and stood in front of the television so I could look Charlie in the eyes so I could say what I wanted to say next.

"I wouldn't dare."

* * *

 **Bella, surprisingly, is turning into my favorite character to write. Let me know what you think!**

 **Siobhan Whitlock - You have entered the emotional rollercoaster. You will laugh, you will cry. Please keep your hands inside the ride at all time and discontinue use and consult your doctor if you experience any burning rashes or itching.**


	8. Chapter 8

_Edward_

 _August 19, 2016_

"Shitfuckbiscuits." Jacob cursed when he died again in _Call of Duty_. I turned to look briefly at the screen as he respawned and then turned around to do another lap around our small bedroom, my thumbnail between my teeth as I bit it down to the quick.

I was going on a date – with _Bella._ I was in a state of shock and denial. I felt like Ashton Kutcher was going to pop out of the walls with camera crew and scream _"You just got Punk'd!"_ Or, I don't know, crash from the hallucinatory drug that I obviously accidentally took.

What I was most afraid of was Bella to come to her senses. Every text that vibrated my phone, I expected to be her saying _Sorry, I can't go out. I realized that I could much better._ Because, she could. She could do way better than me. She deserved better than me.

But, it was forty-five minutes out from when she said that she would be arriving. And there was no text. This was happening. _This was happening._

I started to panic and had to consciously inhale through my nose and exhale out of my mouth. I put my hand on my stomach to feel myself breathe, like I was taught. _Deep breaths._ My Respiratory Therapist, Tanya would coach. _Feel the air travel all the way down to the bottom of your lungs._

They protested, of course. I couldn't get air all the way to the bottoms because they were shitty lungs who were bad at doing their only jobs.

"Bro," Jacob said from the top bunk, his long legs hanging over this edge and his eyes glassy from hours of video games. "Don't worry. You will be fine."

Easy for _him_ to say.

"Choose a horror movie." Jacob coached. "Something with a lot of jump scares. Girls go crazy with jump scares and will use you to shield their face."

After my one turbulent week of my very normal senior year where I had met the Bella, the most mysterious, interesting person in the world, I had figured out that she was not being friends with me out of pity. I winced at the flood of memories of the tears in her eyes. _No, definitely not pity._

I had also figured that she _only_ wanted to be my friend. It sucked, because I was pretty damn sure that I was pretty much in love with her. But, I had resigned to friendship. I could be friends with her, if that's what she wanted. I was more than happy to be friends with her.

"And bring a sweater that you can take off, like a hoodie." Jacob continued to spew all of his first date secrets at me. "So that way you can offer it to her. Girls _love_ that."

However, yesterday completely threw me for a loop. It was like a light switch had been turned on inside of her. She started looking at me in the most peculiar way. Not her normal way – a slight curious look in her eyes, like she was trying to study a deeper meaning in a painting in the Louvre. No, there was a new emotion in her glass clear eyes. A softness that wasn't there before.

And she touched me. _A lot._

"Oh, oh!" He abandoned his game and leaned over to the bottom of his bunk. "When you're watching the movie, put your arm on armrest with your hand up like this," He demonstrated, with his fingers up. "It's like a magnet. Girls will just hold your hand, like, automatically."

Jacob put two and two together after watching us exclusively hang out with each other yesterday on the beach. On the ride home he just screamed _"Bella and Edward sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!_ " out of his open window like a complete madman. It was horrifying.

Then when we got home, he started vomiting all the relationship advice he could give. Randomly spewing how _girls_ like this and _girls_ like that, like freaking Oprah or something.

But, Bella wasn't just any _girl._ She was a damn puzzle _._ Like I was staring at an algebra equation and I was missing the formula to solve it. Everything was _there_ , I just couldn't put it together. She was a mystery.

A mystery. A wonderful, beautiful, amazing _mystery._

And she was going on a date with me.

Panic laced through me and I sucked in a ragged breath.

"You're doing that thing where you get all wheezy." Jacob said and hopped down from the bed as I fought control of my breathing. "What are you wearing?"

I looked down at my black jeans and Gorillaz t-shirt. "This?"

He hung his head in his hands. " _You are hopeless_." He groaned and turned to the closet and started sifting through my side of clothes. I watched him pull out my maroon cardigan and a button down with a diamond pattern on it.

"But we're just going to the movies." I argued.

" _She's_ going to dress up." He said. "This is your guys' first date and she's into you. She's going to wear a dress or something. You gotta look as sharp as she'll be."

"How do you know she's into me?"

He looked at me like I just told him the sky was blue, his lips pursing. "Because I know these things." He rolled his eyes and placed a hand on his chest. "Just trust your big brother."

"Big brother." I scoffed. "I'm _older_ than you."

"By three months!" He said. "Anyways, put this on, don't freak out and she goes in for a kiss, don't make it weird, okay?"

I felt my face go red at the thought of _me_ kissing Bella and I almost started to hyperventilate again. I played with the tubing in my hand

Jacob picked up my clothes, crossed the room, and jammed them in my arms. "Get dressed," He pointed towards our bathroom. "Now."

I did as I was told and got ready, brushing my teeth, and fingercombing my mess of a head of hair off my forehead. I got back to the room to see that Jacob had set up Lenny for me and was sitting on my bunk reading the copy of _Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy_ I had pulled out for Bella.

"There," He said when I walked in. "Now, you look presentable."

"Are you _sure_ she's into me?"

He groaned, his head rolling and stood up. He adjusted my sweater under my collar. "She would be stupid _not_ to be into you and I'm pretty sure she's the smartest girl in the school." He said and dusted off my shoulders.

There was a vibration in my pocket and I pulled out my phone to Bella.

 **I'm here!**

"She's early." I said, a new wave of panic washing through me.

"No," He yanked my phone out of my hand. "She's right on time."

I felt my breathing come in fast and wheezy

"Stop it." He said as he handed me his keys and Lenny's cannula. "Relax. Collect yourself. Put your shoes on. I'll go get Bella."

He breezed by me and I moved to my bed to sit and put my shoes on and tried to 'collect myself' like he said. _It'll be fine._ I tied my shoes. _It's just a date. It's not like we're getting married._ I plunged into a different fantasy where we _were_ getting married. My hand on her waist, her brown eyes on me shiny with love and adoration, my lips against hers. My heart thrummed hard in my chest and I rocked back and forth like a crazy person. _It's just a first date._

"Hey, Bella!" Jake greeted when I heard the front door open. "Edward's finishing getting ready. He'll be right out."

"Stupendous." She responded.

I got up and walked slowly to my living room.

Bella was standing in front of the west wall of my living room, inspecting our family photos. My eyes traced her whole figure – she was in this sun dress with large flowers all over it, like something out of _La La Land_ and black tights that had a run in them on her left leg and her signature boots. Her hands were curled around a small, white book.

Her eyes snapped to me. "Hey," She greeted.

"Hey," I greeted back and took a place next to her.

"Is this your mom?" She pointed at my mom and dad's wedding photo from twenty-seven, almost twenty-eight years ago. Her hair was done up in flowers and she clutched a much younger version of my dad as they both smiled for the camera, her black eyes shiny. "She's beautiful."

"She's the glue that keeps the family together." I said as I fondly looked at my mother, a deep sadness knowing I caused that shine in her eyes to dim. "I wouldn't know what I do without her."

"I like this one, too." She pointed at our last Christmas photo. We were all wearing red Santa hats on the sand on First Beach. I had ditched Lenny for the photo, and you could see the discomfort in my eyes as I struggled without him. I smiled anyway.

"Jacob had a cold that day." I said. "He was miserable. 'I want to go 'ome'" I mimicked his stuffed up voice. "Momb, ake me 'ome!"

Bella laughed. "He looks like he's fine in the photo."

"Well, he's a ham." I shrugged and handed over my book. " _Hitchhiker's_ – the best book on the face of this planet - for you."

"Thank you." She acted like she was receiving a prized relic. "And for you…drumroll," She trilled her tongue and handed over the small book. " _The Catcher in the Rye_."

" _This_ is your favorite book?" I said and took it from her. It was a very well-loved copy too. The front cover was threatening to take a death plunge and the back binding was coming loose. I found an old receipt from a Circle K in Mesa jammed in the back.

She looked offended. "Have you read it before?"

I shook my head. "I don't normally reach for teenaged angst."

Her lips pitched up. "Give it a try. I think Holden Caulfield will surprise you." She shrugged. "He has an interesting outlook on things."

"I'm very excited to see why this is your favorite book." _And maybe start piecing together the puzzle a little._ I flipped through it, stopping when I saw notes written in the margins, and stars next to passages, and underlines.

She wagged her finger. "You have to read it first."

"Okay," I smiled. "I'll read it as soon as I can."

"I expect nothing less." She looked at _Hitchhiker's_. "So is the meaning of life really forty-two? Or is that just an internet thing?"

"You'll have to read to find out." I grinned.

"Oh, I will." She said and smiled back. "You'll expect a full book report."

I got lost in the depths of her eyes. _Just a first date._ I reminded myself. _Too bad I'm already in love._

* * *

 _August 19, 2016_

"Well," Bella said as she clutched the strap of her purse, her lips twisting into a lopsided pout. "That really puts a damper on things."

Us three – Bella, Lenny, and I - stood outside the only theater in Port Angeles, which was locked up tight with a large sign on the doors that said _CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS._

Bella looked up at me with an expectant gaze. "What should we do?"

I felt my eyebrows furrow. I did not really have a plan other than go sit in the movie theater with the most mysterious, interesting person in the world. Well, that and maybe attempt to not have a panic attack. I looked down at her and shrugged. "I don't know."

"Hmm." She looked back at the theater like it was a puzzle to solve, her eyes squinting. "Deliberate our choices over coffee?" She suggested.

"That sounds good."

We walked down the one touristy street in Port Angeles towards a coffee shop that Bella found on her phone, keeping to the awnings of the store fronts, since it was starting to drizzle. The stores in this part of town were older buildings that were squished together and had a bunch of antique shops and art galleries and knick knack shops.

I moved slowly, of course, but Bella didn't seem to mind as she checked out the storefront displays, stopping to look into windows, spinning in her flowery dress and combat boots.

She also didn't seem to mind that walking for any length of distance that was more than about fifteen feet took my ability to talk away, since I had to focus on inhaling through my nose and out of my mouth. She seemed fine with the silence, only filling it when she wanted to and not because she felt she had to.

"We didn't really have anything like this Phoenix." She looked into a tattoo parlor's window at a display of different tattoos they could do. I stopped with her to catch my breath and examined a battleship through the window.

"A tattoo shop?"

She laughed. "No, silly. Like a street to walk down. Our downtown is convention centers and skyscrapers."

"Isn't it like a million degrees in Phoenix?" I asked and grinned down at her. "Why would anyone want to walk down the street in that?"

"It constantly rains here." Her eyes widened in offense and she held her hand under the drizzle. "Why would anyone want to walk the street in _this_?"

"Touché."

We continued our stroll down the sidewalk. The raining stopped and a breeze came in from the Strait of Juan De Fuca, cooling everything down. There weren't very many people out. I looked up at the clouds and deduced that it was probably the weather keeping them away. And school had started back again.

Bella started humming and I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She was so beautiful. From her small nose to her pale skin that seemed to glow – a creature of the sun instead of the clouds. She pushed her mane of hair out of her face and then noticed I was looking at her. "What?"

I felt the heat in my cheeks and stopped on the sidewalk to breathe and talk at the same time. "Nothing." I said quickly, inhaling. "Yourdressispretty."

She looked down. "Thanks. I got it at a Goodwill in Scottsdale."

"Smart _and_ thrifty." I smiled. "You are one of a kind."

She grinned. I liked the way her smile crinkled the edges of her eyes. "I like thrift shopping because I like thinking about the past owners and their stories." She looked down. "Like, this dress. I think this dress belonged to a beautiful divorcee." She started. "She has two kids, moved to Scottsdale from Los Angeles because she was tired of the traffic. Wore this dress once to her kid's piano recital and then donated when she decided to spring clean seven months later."

"My mom got this sweater from Salvation Army." I said and touched my well-loved maroon cardigan. "What's it's story?"

Her hand raised and she fingered the soft material on my upper arm, her eyes going hard and analytical and her lips pursing, like she could tell who the past owner was by focusing hard enough.

The touch sent jolts of electricity into my arm. She stepped forward and slid her fingers down my forearm and then gently brushed them over my hand that was gripping Lenny's handle, resting them right on top of my knuckles.

I looked at her pale hand, her long slender fingers with the chipping purple nail polish, wistfulness running through me. It would be so easy to just turn my hand and lace my fingers through hers, pull her in, kiss her…

"A sixty-two-year-old man that digs his cat named Muffins and Anderson Cooper. Doesn't like Trump, but thinks he tells it like it is."

Her words brought me out of my fantasy. "My sweater was owned by a retired Trump supporter?" I said in mock shock and offense, my free hand coming to rest over my chest.

"It's not me." Bella shook her head and grinned. "It's the clothes. They tell their own history." Her hand didn't move off mine.

"I guess I need to update my wardrobe if I'm wearing the same clothes as baby boomers." I looked down at Lenny and grinned. "Although, it does match the oxygen tank."

She laughed, her smile wide again. "No. I like your clothes." She picked her hand up off off of mine to pick a pilling off my arm. "Including your old-man sweaters."

I switched hands on Lenny, so the one that was closest to Bella was free. I wanted her touch again. Everywhere her fingers touched, it felt hot. Like, she lit me on fire. Cold dead flesh, raised to life again.

Her hands swung easily next to mine. I could reach out and grab it myself, but I was a spineless wimp. So, I sat there and hoped that _she_ would be the one to grab my hand. _You're so pathetic._ I chastised myself.

While I was staring at our two disconnected hands longingly, hers suddenly snatched mine like she heard my prayers or something. The sudden move startled me and I blushed.

"A music shop!" Bella shrieked and I looked up to where she was pointing. _Oliver's Record Shop_ hung from the awning about a block away. "We have to go in!" She said and started marching, her hand pulling mine as she bee-lined towards the shop.

"Bella," I gasped, my lungs suddenly making their presence known by protesting loudly in my tight chest as I picked up my feet to try and match her pace.

"It's just down the street."

I followed her, Bella moving twice as fast my fastest speed. My lungs continued to try and put the brakes. _What the fuck are you doing?_ I could hear them speak to me as I pushed them. _We can't do that anymore. Not after what you did to us._ I inhaled ragged, wheezy breaths. As a final act of rebellion, my lungs shot pain shot from the left side of my chest, radiating backwards and up into my shoulder.

I yanked my hand out of hers. "Stop." I inhaled a wheezy breath, the world going soft around the edges and I pressed my hand to my chest, right over my scar. "Stop."

Bella regarded me in frozen shock for a split second, her eyes taking me all in. And then her expression morphed into anxiety. "Are you okay?" She blurted.

"Yeah," I gasped as the world started to spin. I reached my hand out and gripped the wall of the nearest store and leaned my butt on it, focusing on inhaling through my nose and out of my mouth. I fished my rescue inhaler of steroids from my front pocket of my jeans and used that.

"I'm sorry." She crossed the space between us. "I forgot." Her hands came up to touch me. "I'm so sorry."

"It's," inhale. "Okay." Inhale. "Justgiveme," inhale. "A moment."

She reached out, her hand finding my arm again. Her clear eyes swam with concern. "I'm really very sorry."

The steroids helped and the pain dissipated after a couple of moments. My breathing returned to normal a couple of moments after that. Then the embarrassment of not being able to walk at a brisk pace did not subside. I felt the heat in my face. "I'm-,"

"Don't." Bella said, her hand tightening on my arm. "Don't apologize. You have nothing to apologize for." Her hand came up and brushed my hair that had fallen onto my forehead. She was so close I could see the ring of gold that surrounded her pupil like a solar eclipse. So close I could see an old scar on her cheek. _So close_ _I could kiss her._

But, I was a spineless wimp.

I felt my brows furrow. "You forgot?"

"What?"

"You forgot I have an oxygen tank?"

"Is that surprising?"

I smiled. "A little."

"I told you I don't care about that." She said and smiled back, but it faded. "I do care if I hurt you though. You gotta let me know when I'm being an ignorant asshat."

I felt my smile widen and I stood back up. "You're not an ignorant asshat."

"I feel like it." She mumbled and dropped her eyes.

I sighed and glanced at the Olympic Medical Center – the tallest building in the area. My home away from home. _She will know eventually. She'll have to._ I winced.

I had two worlds, it felt like. Cancer – and whatever party favors that cancer decided to throw at me. And then Bella – a nice, wonderful bubble that was protected from the horrors of disease. I knew, though, that if I was going to have Bella, she will have to know about cancer.

And I was afraid that once those two worlds collide, they'll explode right in front of my face.

I bit my lip. "I have scars inside my lungs that prevent them from expanding fully and therefore I can't get in enough oxygen to meet my body's demands." I looked at Lenny. _Obviously._ "I can't really go any faster than a light, afternoon stroll."

She nodded, her eyes wide on me. "Light stroll. I can handle that. You want to check out the music shop?" She asked, her hand slipping into mine.

"Absolutely." I smiled at her and then down at our clasped hands.

* * *

 _August 19, 2016_

We walked into a bell above our head. I had actually been in this store before. It's where I found Streetlight Manifesto on the suggestion of cashier with the septum piercing when Mom and I were up here for a follow-up doctor's visit.

I scanned around. Boxes and boxes of records sat on tables all arranged by genre. CDs sat in racks. Posters from different bands covered every square inch of wall space.

"This place is remarkable." Bella said as she stepped through the threshold with me, her eyes appraising the small store.

"It's the coolest store in the area." I confirmed.

Bella hadn't let go of my hand yet. I assumed it was so that she was forced to walk at my pace after almost pulling me off my feet. But, the last time I assumed the reasoning behind why she did anything, I was wrong and made her cry. I winced at those memories. Watching her tear up over me was like being shanked in my diaphragm.

I instead pushed the motivation behind her actions out of my head and instead just enjoyed the fact that I was holding hands on a date. _I was holding hands on a date._ With _Bella._ And I hadn't completely dissolved into a panic attack, yet. This was going in my top three days of my existence, probably next to the day I was adopted and the day I got to walk out the hospital after my last round with cancer.

We perused the rows of records. I watched Bella flip through the punk section first and then moved on to the rock section. I watched her inspect an Artic Monkeys record. I looked at her face, the V between her eyes as she looked over the tracklist on the back. _What is she thinking about?_ I wondered.

We got through the records and the CDs, finding the small instrument section in the back of the store. Guitars of different types hung on the walls. I looked at the keyboard that sat set up on it's stand for demos in the corner. I separated from Bella and turned it on.

"Do you play the piano?" She asked as she watched me adjust the settings to piano.

"Since I was old enough to bang on my Nana's old upright." I smiled and started to play an original. A simple melody that I thought of last week during Chemistry. I blushed, knowing that the inspiration was standing right next to me.

"That's pretty." She said. "Who's it by?"

"Oh, um, me." I stammered as I led into a bridge.

Her eyes widened. "You _wrote_ this?"

I nodded as I looped in a harmony with my other hand. The music filled the little shop and I started over the melody and then led it out.

"Incredible." She shook her head. "

"I know my way around an ukulele too." I said. "My Death Cab For Cutie covers are spellbinding."

"That'd I'd like to see." She smiled up at me.

"I'll show you sometime."

Bella's phone rang and I watched as she stuck her hand in her purse and pulled it out. "It's my mom," She said. "I got to take this."

I nodded.

"Hello? Mom?" I watched her eyebrows furrow as she pressed the cell phone to her face. "No, Mom." She paused. "No." Her voice went pleading and her expression turned frustrated. She turned and hurried out of the front door of the store.

I took my time clicking off the keyboard and then exiting the store myself. I found Bella pacing around in front of a bench that sat against the wall of the music shop.

"Mom, leave the Hernandez's' alone. They aren't watching you." Her hand flew up. "Because, Lupe has lived there for years and nothing has happened. Okay? She doesn't even know what that is." She made a noise. "Yeah. Love you, too. Bye."

"Everything alright?" I asked as I watched Bella sink onto the bench, her head in her hands. I took a seat next to her, parking Lenny against my leg.

She shook her head. "You know how I said I got out of Phoenix because I was tired of being the third wheel to my Mom and her new husband?"

"Yeah?"

"That was half the truth." She winced. "I don't like to lie. _At all._ But, I also can't tell the full truth when people ask me, so I came up with a half-truth to tell people." She babbled. "And it was fine. I've been telling the half-truth so often that I almost convinced myself that it was the full-truth. But…" She dropped her hands and her eyes to her lap.

"What is the full-truth?"

"I said my mother is wild. And free. Gorgeous. Wise. Philosophical." She inhaled. "And crazy. And those were all the truths. Especially the last one." Bella looked up into my face, her brown eyes full of a dark sadness. "My mom has schizophrenia."

"Oh, Bella." I said, reaching for her hand. "I'm sorry."

"She thinks that our neighbor is going to cut her fuel line to her car." Bella looked at me. "Which wouldn't be unreasonable in Apache Junction, but our neighbor's an eighty-year-old blind widow."

"Yeah, that does seem a little delusional." I agreed. "Has she always been like this?"

The equation to Bella's character found a new piece of the formula. Taking care of your own mother would force her to mature beyond her years. I felt like I was finally pieced the edge pieces of the puzzle together, now I just had to start working on the middle.

But, it distressed me to think that Bella had been the sole caretaker of her mentally ill mother. That's a lot of responsibility for just a kid.

She bit her lip. "It's been fine these last couple of years. Controlled, you know? She didn't want to lose custody of me to Charlie. But, if I'm getting calls like this it means that she hasn't been taking her meds."

Being a chronically sick person, you learn the careful art of discussing diseases with strangers. People picked up conversations in waiting rooms or in the outpatient chemo clinic or the cafeteria of the hospital, eager for empathy and understanding and - most importantly – comradery. Because we were all soldiers in the war against our own bodies.

It always annoyed the hell out of me, though. It was worse when I was bald – the big, glaring neon sign that said ' _I have cancer!_ ' And I would attract anyone who has ever had or has ever known anyone with cancer. I learned empathy in the polite sense - to muddle through the conversation as someone told me about their aunt/cousin/grandma/nephew who was sick in one way or another.

But it was different with Bella. The hurt in her eyes over her mother stabbed me to my core. I just wanted to scoop her against her me and rub her back and banish the pain in her eyes. "Is she going to be okay?" I asked, my voice low and gentle.

She shrugged and then her eyes warm eyes hardened. "I don't know. Probably. She has Phil and Phil takes good care of her." She squeezed her phone, her eyes flashing angrily at it. She banished it to her bag. "I shouldn't worry about her, but I _do_."

"It's okay to worry." I moved to grip her fingers in understanding. "You care about her."

Bella looked at me, her clear eyes full filling with tears. "But, that's why I moved out here," Her lower lip started to quiver. "She has Phil now. So, I could take some time for myself. You know, make friends and have _fun_? Be a teenager? And then I get calls like this and then I feel bad for even leaving her in the first place." She sniffed. "I just wanted a normal school year."

"Bella," It made me feel helpless that I couldn't do anything about the pain she was feeling, that I couldn't alleviate it in some way. "You shouldn't feel bad. Your mom is still an adult."

"In the loosest sense of those terms." She finished for me.

"And, like you said, she has Phil now."

"Yeah." She tore her eyes from me.

"So, don't feel bad, okay?" Without thinking about it, the hand I had laced with hers went around her shoulders in comfort. Surprisingly, she didn't shy away from the touch, instead moving to place her head on the inside of my shoulder. "You deserve to take some time to yourself."

I felt her smile a little. "What is normal, anyway?" She sniffed and rubbed her face.

"You're asking the wrong guy." I said, laughing with little humor. "I wouldn't know normal if it bit me me on the ass."

"Seems like a social construct or something to me."

"Sociological conspiracy set by the illuminati to keep us complacent."

We laughed without humor and then fell silent. I rubbed Bella's shoulder as she continued to sniff and rub away tears.

"I'm sorry I've ruined our date."

"No, no." I assured and hesitantly ran my fingers down her arm. These touches didn't have the same electricity to them as before. They were sweet, intimate. We were on our own little planet on this bench in the middle of a Port Angeles block. "Shit happens. I understand."

"Shit happens." She repeated as she watched my fingertips trace her arm. She placed her hand over mine. Her small, warm hand over my cool one. "Straight to the point. I like that."

* * *

 **Sooo...I was going to have this up yesterday, but Word crashed and I lost not only this chapter, half of the next one and part some future chapters. About 11K words total. I almost took a relaxing bath with my plugged in toaster. I really almost just killed all the characters in a brutal and improbably helicopter accident. I instead made this scene bittersweet by making Bella's mom mentally ill.**

 **Let me know what you think and tell me I'm pretty or something in the reviews. I could use the pick-me-up.**


	9. Chapter 9

_Jacob_

 _August 20, 2016_

I woke up with my alarm, turned it off and started to go back to sleep when I remembered that the football roster was going to be posted today. _I was going to know if I made the team._ I was instantly awake at that thought. I sat up, almost smacked my head on my ceiling. I put my hand on Cara Delavigne's face. _Sorry_. I rolled up and over the black metal guard.

"Do you have to _Mission Impossible_ yourself out of bed every morning?" Edward asked once I got straightened up on my feet.

I looked at Edboy. He was still in bed, his oxygen mask still on and a tiny, white book open in his hands. He looked tired - his eyes rimmed with dark circles. He spent the last two nights texting Bella under his covers, his phone vibrating until almost four in the morning last night.

"Are you not going to school?" Usually he was up and out of bed, showered, and dressed before I even had a chance to scratch myself.

He shook his head. "Appointment."

"Dr. Hot or Dr. Bears?"

"Dr. Bears." He said and turned back to his book. "Bone marrow aspiration."

I went to the closet and started pulling out clothes for the day. I felt my brows furrow in confusion as I inspected clothes. "Did something show up on the CBC?"

Edward went in for blood tests every couple of months. Those were easy – like blood stick and a couple of test tubes. But if something was funky on the results, he was called in for a sample of his bone marrow.

A familiar pang of anxiety – a mixture of apprehension and what I assumed was a little bit of post-traumatic stress of holding your brother's hand as the doctors tell you they're going to pull the plug – exploded in me like a rocket.

I took those feelings and stomped them down quickly, not letting my brother see my unease or the worry in my eyes. Instead, I pretended to hunt for more clothes, even though I had my entire outfit for the day in my arms already.

"It's on the lower side of normal." He said. "Dr. Bears is just being careful."

 _Well, if you didn't hide it the last time, then we wouldn't haven't to be so damn careful._ I felt my mouth press into a thin line at my thoughts. Of course, I didn't voice them. The the swift, unpleasant hammer of karma had already punished him enough by giving him crap lungs for the rest of his life. He didn't need us to lay on the guilt trip as well.

Instead I refocused on the positive. Cancer was sad. What wasn't sad was the fact that my brother went on a date yesterday with an actual fucking girl. When he got back, he went straight to bed - he said Bella had him walking all over Port Angeles - and I didn't get a chance to ask him how it went.

"What happened with the date?" I turned with my clothes in my hands. "Did you kiss her?"

He turned into a tomato, his eyes darting to his book. "No, we didn't kiss."

"Aw," I groaned. "So, you didn't even like cop a feel or anything?"

He jerked, his face going maroon. "Jake!"

"So you _did_ kiss her." I teased.

"No, I didn't!" He said. "It was a good date. We went to the music store. We had coffee." His eyes went soft and distant and his lopsided grin found its way on his face. "It was nice."

"You going out again?"

He averted his eyes to his shirt. "Yeah, we have a study date planned for sometime this week. And we're probably going to go out on Saturday."

"You guys are _totally_ dating." I spun on my heels. "Edboy's in _love!"_ I called as I headed towards the bathroom.

"Stop it!" He reprimanded, his eyes darting to the door. "Mom will _hear_."

I laughed. "That's not a denial."

I showered and changed and headed to the kitchen for breakfast. Mom was already there, dumping something into Bertha, jeans a t-shirt on instead of her normal work clothes. She glanced at me. "We're-,"

"Going to Olympic for an aspiration. When I get home, turn down Bertha." I finished for her as I fished a package of Pop-Tarts from the cupboard.

"You forgot one."

"What?" I looked down at my mother.

"Stop being such a smartass." She gripped my cheeks as she replaced Bertha's lid.

"Can I go to Harry's after school?" I asked and bit into the Pop-Tart. _Gross._ "And can we buy name brand Pop-Tarts?"

"Yes," She said. "And no. Those are fine. They're the same thing."

"They are _not_ the same thing."

She rolled her eyes. "Name brand Oreos or Pop-Tarts. Pick one."

"Oreos!" Edward called from our room.

"No!" I protested. "Pop-Tarts!"

My mother smiled at me. "I'll get both." She winked and turned back to the counter, her curtain of black hair waving down her back.

I kissed her on the cheek. "Bye Mom. Bye Edboy!"

"Bye!" He called back.

"Have a good day, baby!"

It was a going to be a good day. I could already _feel_ it.

* * *

 _November 1, 2011_

It was decided that Dad and I would go back to La Push and Mom would stay with Edward in Port Angeles while he went through his first week of chemo.

I objected, of course. They assumed it was because I wanted to miss school too, but really I just hated watching Edward's eyes go dark and dejected when he asked if I could stay and they told him no. "Jacob's got to go to school to pick up your assignments, baby." My mother said as she petted Edward's head.

His lower lip quivered. He looked so small in the hospital bed as he curled up. "But who's going to keep me company?"

"Edward," My mom said. "He'll be back this weekend. And I'll be here."

"But, I want Jake here." His green eyes snapped to me, tears rolling down his face.

"I know. But it'll go so fast, you'll barely miss him."

They didn't let me leave the hospital without finger sticking me first and collecting a drop of blood to see if I would be a match for bone marrow.

I sat in class the first and second day like I was supposed to. I did my work like I was supposed to. And I didn't talk to anyone. I didn't say a peep unless I was called on to answer a question. And then I would go home and Dad would heat up a TV dinner and we would sit and eat in silence, not even looking at each other.

On the third day, I stared at the Iron Man Band-Aid that the nurse put on me after they fingerstuck me, the teacher lecturing us over something dumb that happened a long time ago. _Who cares?_ I thought. _Why does anyone care?_

"Where's Redward, Jake?" Embry tried again. His, like, fourth time asking today. I ignored him again. The questions were starting now, since Edward hadn't been to school all week and because I wasn't saying anything to anyone.

 _Are you okay, Edward?_ They said the chemo was going to make him really sick, like a stomach flu but ten times worse. I felt my brow furrow as I looked at the Band-Aid, my stomach tying itself into knots.

I looked back at the teacher as she pointed to different countries on the world map. It made me so _mad_ watching her. _Does she know?_ Does she know what's out there? Does she know people can _get_? How do adults go through life knowing that there were things like cancer and they just keep living like everything is normal? How do they do that?

I looked down at my Band-Aid.

At lunchtime, I wasn't even really hungry. I gnawed on an apple and deflected questions from Quil and Em. They gave up pretty quick after about the third and fourth time I said 'fuck off.'

"He's not in the mood without his brother from another mother." Quil joked, his hand raking over his buzzcut. He always, without fail, caught lice at the beginning of the school year and had to have all of his hair buzzed off. It was just starting to grow back in now.

"Edward's my brother." I argued lowly. "Period."

"I can see the family resemblance." Quil said and they both snickered.

"Shut the fuck up." I growled at him.

"You are being a major asshole today." Embry said.

"Major Asshole." Quil saluted.

"Bite me." I got up from the lunch table and moved outside to a bench.

There was a courtyard that separated the school from the back parking lot and then beyond that was the Pacific Ocean. I watched the waves. What I wouldn't give to be a dumb fish. Just live my fish existence. No family or friends. Eat. Flirt with fish girls. Float around not even knowing or caring that one moment I might be there and the next I won't, being eaten by a bigger, more dangerous fish.

I kicked a rock.

"Someone pee in your Wheaties this morning, Jake?"

My eyes snapped to Sam, who was this slightly bigger kid, so he thought he ran the place. I rolled my eyes. "Can you go try your shit standup on someone else, Sam?" I looked back out to the waters, my fingers massaging my Band-Aid. "It's not funny."

"I'm just asking a question." He got all huffy and stepped towards me.

"Good for you." I muttered and turned back to the ocean. _Everyone's getting on my last nerve today._

"Where's your pale face brother?"

I glared at him. " _Stop_."

"I'm just asking a question." He repeated.

"And I'm not answering them, so you should probably _stop_." I shook my head. "Retard."

His eyes flashed angrily and he sneered. "So do your parents always going diving for abortion babies in dumpsters, or did they just happen to find Edward when they were looking for your dinn-,"

I punched him in the face.

My fist connected with his mouth and chin. I could feel pain when I hit one of his teeth, but I didn't care. My vision went red and hazy around the edges as I pushed Sam to the ground and fell on his chest, wailing blindly with my fists. Sometimes I got him, sometimes I just punched the ground. "Don't. Talk. About. Edward. Like. That." I cried, tears flooding down my face and making it hard to see.

"Jacob Black!" I was dragged off of Sam by Principal House, two hands shackling my arms behind me, my knuckles hot and wet with my blood and with Sam's.

I could see Sam on the ground. I had definitely gotten his nose and an eye. A teacher kneeled next to him and helped him sit up. He spat blood on the sidewalk and glared at me.

I saw my Band-Aid on the ground – a sad little circle, the Iron Man symbol black from being stepped on. It must've slipped off when I was hitting Sam.

"You're coming with me, young man." The Principal said and started dragging me towards the front of the school.

"No!" I sobbed and tried to writhe away. "My Band-Aid."

But, he didn't let me retrieve it.

I was forced to wait in the Principal's office until my Dad got there, who sat next to me and listened to the Principal tell my Dad how I curbstomped Sam's face in. He left the part out where Sam called Edward an abortion, though, making Sam seem like this perfect angel. Dad was still while he listened, only taking occasional deep breaths, which he sighed out of his nose.

I stared at my Band-Aid-less finger while the adults talk, anticipating the belting I would get later. Usually, I would be in a state of panic, trying to wiggle my way to a lesser punishment. Now though, I just felt tired and empty. _I don't even care._ I thought, tears dripping my face, still focused on that fucking Band-Aid. _What does it even matter?_

I was given a write-up and three points against my record and I had to write an essay on why violence was bad or some bullshit like that. My dad checked me out of school for the rest of the day, just dragging me to the parking lot without even letting me get my backpack or my Band-Aid.

"What did he say?" My dad asked me when we both slammed the doors of the truck closed.

"It doesn't matter." I crossed my arms and glared out the window into the clouds. " _I'm_ the one getting punished anyway."

"Well, he obviously said something to provoke you." Dad said and started the engine to his F-150.

There was a hard, suffocating silence as I deliberated telling Dad the truth or not. I focused on the fat raindrops that splattered on the windshield.

"He called Edward an abortion." I said under my breath, anger hot in my chest again. I balled my hands so tight into fists my knuckles started to turn white. "He asked if he was fished out of a dumpster." I started to cry. "They always say stuff about Edward. About how he isn't really my brother and they call him a pale face and today I just snapped, okay?" I continued to cry, wiping away tears and boogers with the sleeve of my hoodie. "I just snapped." My voice cracked up at the end.

Dad's gaze went back to the window, his eyes intense and the lines of his forehead deepening. I could tell he was thinking hard about something, but he didn't say anything. I was expecting some lecture on 'sticks and stones' and all of that. Or at least, for him to get angry with me like he always did when I got in trouble in school.

But, he pulled out of the parking lot, his mouth mashed into a thin line and we drove in silence. I watched those fat raindrops hit the windshield. They were like giant raindrops. Monster ones. Raindrops that take other raindrops and eat them to get stronger. They didn't even make a drip sound, they made a huge _splat!_ like when you squash a big bug.

"Where are we going?" I asked when we missed the turn-off for our neighborhood.

"Port Angeles." My Dad said without looking at me.

"I thought you wanted me to go to school." I asked in confusion.

"School's not what you need right now." He shook his head. "You need your brother."

* * *

 _August 20, 2016_

They said that they were going to post the team roster in the hallway next to the gym at eleven. I stared at the clock that sat above the chalkboard as our teacher, Mrs. Molino, taught us how to conjugate _tener_ in Spanish. It was 10:38.

I was anticipating making the team. After watching what came out for tryouts, there wasn't really a doubt in my mind that I would be on the team.

What I was most worried about was what position Clapp was going to assign me to. I had proven during tryouts that when there weren't girls around, I could run pretty fast. I think I squashed Clapp's original idea of putting me on the defensive line. Which meant I was going to go on offensive. I don't think I was fast enough for wide receiver, but I could totally do an offensive guardsman or maybe something a little more glamorous, like a halfback.

I sat and fantasized me in blue and green, playing for the Seahawks on Sunday night football, running in balls to the end zone. I fantasized getting my Mom a new car, something shiny and opulent like a Bentley. And I could get Edward one of those portable concentrators that looked like purses, so he wouldn't have to drag around Lenny anymore. A new house. A big one, with a big kitchen my mom always pinned on her Pinterest board.

I drummed my fingers on my desk and stared at the clock.

"Senor Black," Mrs. Molino said. "Ustedes…"

"Teneis." I answered and glanced at the clock again. 10:43. Hurry up _time._

"Hey, Jake?" I heard a voice call behind me and I turned around to Bella's gigantic doe eyes. She blinked a couple of times at me, her eyebrows furrowed in thought.

"What's up, Bella? Did you have fun yesterday?" I asked and smiled.

"Yeah, it was great." She smiled.

"You thinking of see him again?"

Her eyes sparkled. "Yeah, unquestionably."

"That's great," I smiled and started to turn back towards the front. "Edboy needs some fun." Lord, ain't that the biggest understatement of the century. "And I know he really _, really_ likes you."

"He does?"

"Dude," I turned back around. "When I asked if he kissed you, you should've _seen_ the color he turned."

Bella's pale skin blushed herself and I watched a bunch of emotions swirl into her eyes, which narrowed like she was trying to figure out something. "He wants to _kiss_ me?"

"Of course." I said and then shrugged. "Edward's not very, um, experienced in that department and he's cripplingly shy. Trust me, he _wants_ to kiss you. He's just taking a million years to work up to it."

"Hm," She made a noise and stuck the end of her pencil between her teeth, her eyes narrowing further. "Interesting."

I turned back around. 10.48.

"Jake?" Bella started again.

I twisted for her.

Her expression had turned into concern and she worried her lower lip. "Is there something wrong with Edward?"

"I mean, besides being irritating to death?" I chuckled at my own joke lowly.

"No," She pushed her hair out her face, clearly uncomfortable. "I mean, he's not in school."

"Oh," I understood what she was asking. _Did something happen?_

I kind of forget that people outside our immediate world were not completely hip to Edward's medical history and knew that regular testing and doctor's visits and the random hospital stays for fun stuff like pneumonia were just apart of life.

But, her question confused me for a whole other reason. _Edward hasn't told her anything? Isn't she like his girlfriend now?_ I would've assumed that any romantic partner of his would need, like, some sort of contract to agree to or something. _Edward has a lot of medical problems. Please check the box if you agree to the terms and conditions of this relationship._

"If you, like, can't talk about it." She said quickly when I didn't immediately answer, a stripe of blush on her pale face. "It's alright. I just want to make sure he's okay."

"He didn't tell you?" I asked in disbelief.

She shook her head. "No, he said 'see you tomorrow' yesterday."

I chewed on that for a moment. Was he lying to her? Or was that just a mistake? Like saying 'see you later' to fast food workers, even though you don't know them from Adam. I turned back. "How much do you know?"

She went back to fidgeting her papers. "Um," She started. "I know his oxygen cart is named Lenny and that he can't walk very fast or very far, but I guess that's kind of obvious." The skin around her eyes went tight. "I think he said something about scars in his lungs."

"That's _it_?" I asked, completely baffled. I watched her eyes widen in shock when I said that.

"Senor Black," Mrs. Molino said. "Date la vuelta por favor."

I twisted forward in my chair at the teacher's command.

"Is he okay, though?" I felt her pencil on my shoulder.

"Yeah," I said while facing forward. "He's just going for a routine check-up. Completely scheduled, nothing funky."

I heard her sigh with relief behind me. "Okay, thanks Jacob."

I bit on my thumbnail and went back to staring at the clock. It wasn't cool for him to leave her in the dark like that. I mean, first off, that was kind of, like, _lying_. Bella should know what she's getting into. Secondly, it was _dangerous._ I felt my brows furrow. They were alone in Port Angeles yesterday. What if he had an emergency? Would she know what to do?

 _I'll have to talk to him about that…_

The bell rang. 11:00.

 _…right after football._

* * *

 _November 1, 2011_

We drove to Port Angeles in silence. The only noise was the low oldies rock radio and the fat, splattery raindrops. I watched the sky churn gray, threatening to open up and pour at any second and the green of the trees as we sped by them. Before, we didn't go to Port Angeles a lot, maybe once or twice a month. Now, if felt like I had this whole road memorized, from the Burger King billboard at the 341mile marker to the crosses that sat on the side of the road.

We parked in the parking garage attached to the hospital. I watched my dad throw the little ticket the machine gave us on the windshield and then turn to me. "Jacob."

I played with my seatbelt. "Yes?"

"I'm not mad at you for punching Uley's kid."

"Y-you're not?" I felt my eyes widen at him in disbelief. The last time I got into a fight, I got the belt in the backyard and was grounded for two weeks. And that was a push. This time, I'm pretty sure I broke Sam's nose.

"No," He shook his head, his expression set like it was carved into stone. "I'm proud of you for standing up to for your brother." He paused. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something, though. I want you to listen to my words very carefully."

I nodded at him.

"Your brother is very sick. _Very_ sick. And this may not be something that he ever really, truly gets over. He may die from it. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But, someday. Do you understand that?" My dad's sad, wise, black eyes fell to me.

I nodded my head, feeling tears in my eyes again at the thought of Edward dying. I sucked in a ragged breath. "I don't want Edward to die."

Dad shook his head and turned back to staring out the windshield. "None of us do. And therefore we must all play a part in making sure he doesn't, okay?"

I nodded.

"My job is to be the dad who goes to work and pays the bills. Your mom's job is to take care of Edward." He looked at me. "You have to ask yourself - what is your job, Jacob?"

I chewed on the inside of cheeks as I stared into my dad's eyes. My memory flooded of him in the hospital bed. His wide green eyes taking everything in. Every hospital person that came in and touched him and poked at him, he recoiled from. _He looked so scared_. "To protect him."

He nodded. "To protect him. To be there for him. To be _strong_ for him." His hand came down on my shoulder. "Because he only has you."

I nodded and then straightened up in my seat and rubbed the tears away. _I can be strong. I can be strong for Edward._ "Okay." I nodded. "I can do that."

"Atta boy." My dad smiled at me and then undid his seatbelt and killed the engine.

I almost skipped down the pediatric hallway, I was so excited to see Edward. I found Mom first, who was pacing around on her phone right outside his door. She saw me barreling down hallway and her expression twisted with confusion as she looked at me and then at Dad who was following on my heels.

"Jacob?" She asked and closed her phone. "What are you doing here?"

"Jacob wanted to see Edward." Dad said as he came up behind me, his eyes intense on my mother. "And we need to have an grown-up talk."

"Okay," My mother nodded at my father, who took her hand. She glanced down at me. "Wash your hands before you touch him. Don't make fun of the throwing up. And if he wants to sleep, let him, okay?"

I nodded and smiled. "Okay. Got it."

I entered his room, washed my hands at the sink that sat next to the door to his little bathroom, and came around the blue curtain that had been drawn. "Edward?"

The smell of throw up hit me first and I quickly pushed away the sensation of gagging myself. He was curled up on his side on a bunch of pillows, a pink bucket sitting on the bed next to him. His face was splotchy and red like he had been crying and there was an abandoned tray of food on the little rolly cart that sat over his bed.

I felt the knots in my stomach tighten at the sight and my palms went clammy. I fought the urge to turn around and run out of the room to my dad. _I changed my mind. Take me back to school._ But, then I remembered the promise I made to him and to Dad.

 _Be strong._ I said to myself. _Be strong for Edward._

His eyes, which were sunk into his face like a Tim Burton movie character, snapped to me. "Jacob," He croaked, his eyebrows furrowing. "You're not in school."

"I wanted to see you." I joked, letting my smile slide up on my face and stepped further into the room. "I made a _compelling_ argument to get me out of school."

I looked around. There was a vinyl lounge chair next to the bed and I started for that, but froze when I watched Edward move the pink bucket to his rolly cart and pat the empty space next to him.

I sat down next to him, slipped my feet out of my sneakers, and put my feet up.

Being this close, I could smell Edward – which was a mixture of fever sweat and throw up. I felt my nose wrinkle up before I could stop it.

He blushed. "Sorry I smell. The chemo makes me puke." He glared at a black bag that sat on its IV pole above his head, a Captain American sticker stuck to the front of it. " _All the time_. It's horrible." He pouted. He had a bunch of sores on his lips – like sun blisters but a lot of them that haloed around his mouth.

"It's okay if you smell a little." I assured and then looked at his chest. "Your robot IV-thing is cool."

"Yeah," He picked it up – a blue three-pronged line that jutted out from under his collarbone - and tucked his hospital gown under it. I traced two lines – one connected to the black bag and the other connected to a clear one. "They even give me medicine through it. Although I can't sleep on my belly with it."

"That kind of sucks."

"Yeah."

"Have you met Johnny Depp yet?"

He made a face. "No. Johnny Depp doesn't come to Port Angeles. He lives in like LA or something."

"I thought he comes to, like, all hospitals dressed up like Jack Sparrow."

"I don't think so," Edward shook his head. "Although, a nurse dressed up like a minion for Halloween."

"Lame."

He snickered. "It was kind of-," He gagged suddenly, his shoulders rolling and his eyes flashing with pain.

I pulled the pink basin off the cart and held it in front of him as he vomited up what looked to be mostly water. When he was done, he picked up a towel from his lap and wiped the tears from his eyes and snot from his nose. "Thanks." He muttered when he was finished. "I'm sorry I'm so gross."

I put the smelly basin in my lap and encircled my arm around his shoulders, letting my eyes drift to the television that sat mounted on the wall. "What are we watching?"

He curled up next to me, being careful not to disturb the line that bloomed from his chest. I watched him close his eyes and relax as he pressed his sweaty head against my shoulder. "I don't even care. Whatever you want."

* * *

 _August 20, 2016_

I sped-walked – since I had already gotten a hall monitor ticket from that tall broad for running and another would mean detention – down the hallways towards the gym.

"Where's the fire?" Quil called after me from his locker, one of the Forks girls standing next to him, her fingers twirling into her hair as she flirted.

I burst into the clear, mid-morning air and continued blazing my path towards the gym. I found the bulletin board of all the different sports stuff outside of Coach Clapp's office – lists, events schedules, flyers. I scanned around for the football team roster, found it and then started running my finger down the list.

"Halfback." I chanted as I looked for my name. That's what I was hoping for. "Halfback. Halfback."

 _Ja_ c _ob Black_

I ran my finger to the right to see my position.

 _QB_

I felt my mouth pop open in surprise. Quarterback? _Me?_ But, that was the leadership position. The captain. That was the position for goody-goody of the team. The coach's son. The Disney Movie prettyboy. The dude who's been playing football since he could stand. I was _none_ of those things. "What the fuck." I breathed as I stared at the paper.

"Mr. Black."

I turned at my name to Coach Clapp. "I think there might be a mistake." I said. "I'm rostered as the QB."

"There's no mistake." Coach Clapp shook his head and smiled. "Why don't you come in and take a seat." He motioned to his office.

I did as I was told and sat down in front the Coach's desk, looking at all the Forks High School sports paraphernalia on the wall behind him. I looked at the Forks Herald paper that was framed. _Forks High School Wins State Championship_. He got settled in and pressed his hands together. "Jacob I chose you as quarterback for the varsity team this year."

"I know," I nodded, my eyes going to back to him. "That's why I said 'I think there might be a mistake. I'm rostered as the QB.'"

He chuckled at my snarky remark. "There's a couple of reasons why I did that. First off, your snap is great." He said. "And you can run. That makes you a dual-threat, Jake. You cannot only _throw_ the ball, but run it in and since you're such a big kid, the other teams don't have a chance of getting you down." He pulled out a late pass from a drawer in his desk and started filling it out for me. "But, beyond raw talent, the real reason I chose you is because you're a natural leader."

"Natural leader?" I felt my eyebrows furrowed.

"You ever see a wolf pack?"

"Well, given that there aren't many wolves Northern Washington, no sir." I answered.

"When you get home, look up a video on wolf packs." He said and handed me the late pass as the final bell rang. "There's always an alpha – the strongest, fiercest, of the pack. He guides them, protects them, and nutures them.

"That was you during the tryouts, Jake. You not only gave direction, but you motivated them, you _inspired_ them to do their best. And that's what I _need_ on the field. Motivation. Encouragement. _That's_ what wins games." His eyes sparkled as he looked at me. "The raw-talent thing is just a bonus."

I nodded, but didn't completely understand. I was not a leader. I never considered myself one before, at least. I blazed my own trail.

But, my fantasy completely changed. _Quarterback_. That was the biggest position on the team. If I could get a scholarship for _quarterback_? Be the next Tom Brady or Aaron Rodgers or Peyton Manning? My head was swimming and my heart beat loud in my chest. _This was unreal._

"I do have one trepidation." He said, his expression twisting uncomfortably. "Being quarterback means it is an expectation of you to show up to _every_ practice, _every_ game, _every_ offensive clinic, and _every_ fundraising event." He looked at me. "And scouts look at that stuff. They can't have wishy-washy players. Will that be a problem?"

I understood the question in the question. _Will your brother be a problem?_ Appointments. Hospital visits. I played with the strap of my backpack and stared at the newspaper on the wall. He was going in for an aspiration today because his blood counts were slightly low. Which meant, there was a small chance the cancer could be back.

The rocket of anxiety hit me again and twisted up my guts into knots. If the cancer was back, then Edward would most like have to find a bone marrow donor and get a transplant, because reinducing him into remission with chemo alone was going to eventually kill his organs. That meant he was going to get scary infections and be on chemo again and need lots of care. The knots twisted and fought the urge to groan audibly with them.

But it wasn't my cancer. It was _Edward's_ cancer.

I shook my head and smiled. "No, Coach." I said. "I'm in this one-hundred percent."

Coach Clapp smiled back. "That's what I like to hear. Practice starts tomorrow. See you out on the field."

* * *

 _August 20, 2016_

I busted through the front door, almost knocking off all of the family photos on the wall in the process. I could smell whatever mom put in Bertha this morning cooking and the concentrator motor running.

Edward was sitting on the couch, an icepack under his left butt cheek and that tiny, white book in his hands. "You always just have to make an entrance, don't you?" He asked and shifted, wincing with the movement.

"Well, yes." I grinned. "But, I have good reason this time around."

Mom came out and stood in the kitchen doorway, her apron on and her hair clipped to the top of her head.

"I made varsity!"

Edward's face lit up. "Congratulations!"

"Not even the best part." I said. "I made _quarterback_."

My mom's eyes widened with shock and then she started bouncing up and down. "That's great! So great! My baby's going be the next Russell Wilson!" She picked up her cell phone from the dining room table. "I'm going to call your father. He's going to be over the moon!"

"It was so great." I said and dumped my backpack next to the door. "Coach Clapp called me the alpha wolf of tryouts."

"Well you _are_ Ephraim Black's grandson." My mom had her cell phone in her hands, holding it at arm's length because she couldn't read without her glasses. "A natural born leader."

Edward started undoing his cannula. "I'm going to my room."

"Need help?" She asked.

"No, I got it." He rolled his eyes and stood up.

I watched him limp and shuffle his way across the room to the the hallway like a zombie. I followed behind him, listening to his breaths get chestier as he sucked in air through his mouth, his hand on the hallway wall for support. He stopped about halfway and leaned on the wall, his breaths harsh and his eyes pained.

I pushed past him, started his concentrator, switched to the mask, and then uncoiled his his forty-foot tubing all the way out to the hallway. I rolled my eyes so far up in my head, that they did a complete 360 as I handed him the mask. My way of telling him to cut the crap.

"I'm just moving slow because of the aspiration." He explained after a couple of long breaths.

"You're moving slow because you haven't slept for the past two days." I argued lowly so Mom wouldn't hear and crossed my arms. "Bella's cool, but she's not worth hurting yourself over."

"I'm _not_." He insisted, his eyes flashing angrily. "And where'd you get your medical license?" He snapped and moved past me into our bedroom.

"A 'thanks' would've been plenty." I said and followed him.

"Fuck off." He groaned.

He sat down on his bunk, switched to the cannula, turned on his nebulizer. I watched him hold the mouthpiece to his face and suck in the vapor for a second before I turned and started changing in to my dirty work clothes so I could go to Harry's and work on the transmission for the Volvo that I had been itching to get to all weekend, but couldn't because we were waiting on a part.

"So," I started as I put on my old La Push hoodie. "Bella asked about you today."

"She did?" I could feel Edward's eyes bore into the back of my head.

"Yeah, she didn't know you had an appointment and seemed pretty worried." I said and turned, jamming my keys into the pocket of my shorts. "Have you not told Bella anything?"

Something flashed in his eyes and he looked down at his book. "I told her about the fibrosis." He said. "Sort of."

"Shouldn't she like, _know,_ though?" I asked. "You didn't even tell her you had a doctor's appointment today and she's your almost-girlfriend."

His face twisted. "I will. I'm getting to it."

"Are you afraid she'll leave you if you tell her?" I asked bluntly.

He opened his mouth and then closed it, his eyes going to his lap. His head finally nodding. I sat down next to him and could see that his eyes were glassy with tears.

"Bro," I said quietly. "Bella's cooler than that."

"I know she is." He said, using his thumbs to banish the tears from the corners of his eyes. "She just…" His lips twisted. "At first, I didn't want to tell her because I thought it would scare her away. But then I learned that her mom had some health stuff and she moved here so she didn't have to take care of her anymore." He put his nebulized down and switched it off and then sighed. "I just don't want her to feel like she's going from one medical nightmare to another, you know?"

"She's going to know eventually, though." I pointed out. "She'll have to."

"I know." He nodded and sniffed. "I just don't want cancer to ruin what we got."

I put my hand on Edward's shoulders, my eyes boring into his green ones. "And if she loves you back, then she'll love all of you – cancer included."

* * *

 **hello readers i love you**


	10. Chapter 10

_Bella_

 _September 1, 2016_

As someone who was not entirely sure how to initiate a romantic relationship, I felt like the one I was forming with Edward was – for all intents and purposes - coming along.

We spent pretty much every spare moment that wasn't school, basic human functions, or spending time with our respective families with each other. We would wait for each other in the morning to walk to class together, ate lunch in the cafeteria pressed so close together in the seat that we made each other overheat, we held hands under the table during Chemistry, and we spent evenings together doing homework in my living room while we shared a bag of popcorn.

And then in the evenings when I would drop him off at his house, we would sit in the back of Earl and look at the stars that would peek through the clouds, having deep philosophical discussions about life. Those were my favorite, and I would drive home wondering what I did with my life before Edward was in it.

I was quite happy and I'm pretty sure that I was making Edward happy, because his face would light up when he would see me, his eyes dancing and my favorite smile (out of all the smiles in the world) would split across his face like a lightning bolt across a thunder cloud.

However, I had a dilemma.

After watching a bunch of movies that featured budding high school romances as their subjects for scientific research, I figured out that there was some sort of progression that was supposed to happen with relationships, an evolution where the end goal is love, a checklist of sorts to make sure you were doing everything properly to form a healthy, nurturing romantic pairing.

And when I mapped out Edward and I's relationship in my comp book one Thursday evening while watching football with Charlie, I had figured out that we had hit a standstill between third date and our first kiss.

Edward hadn't kissed me yet.

I knew it was because he was shy and inexperienced – like Jake said. And I was fine with this at first. But, after spending so much time together, I was becoming disheartened that his inhibitions were going to keep us at this plateau – somewhere between platonic and casually dating - unable to move to the next step forever.

And it was making me impatient. I was becoming _very_ impatient. I wanted him to hold me. I wanted his hands on my face and in my hair. I wanted his body against me, his heartbeat in my fingertips _._ I would lay awake in my bed at night _aching_ for him – an inferno burning low and deep in the pit of my belly - wishing, hoping, praying that he would finally make his move.

But, he didn't. He kept his hands politely laced through mine or on my shoulder. Sometimes he would run his fingers down my face. And he'd stare into my eyes like I was the only thing that mattered to him in the world. And I would stare back, slightly dazed and wishing that he would just kiss me. _Just freaking kiss me already, dammit._

But, that was it.

It was a Saturday morning – two Saturdays after the barbeque - when talking with Renee on the phone while still sitting in my pajamas that I figured out what I needed to do.

"How's Washingfun?" She asked after we went through the routine of greetings.

"Good," I said. "Are you taking your meds?"

"Yes, _Mom_." She joked with a chuckle. I had made sure after that Sunday to connect with Phil to have her shrink adjust her meds and banish the deluded thoughts about Lupe sneaking under the hood of her Honda in the middle of the night to sabotage her car so she couldn't go to pilates in the morning.

I made a noise as I thought about my dilemma. "I have a question and I feel like only you can answer it."

"Does it involve the occult or pregnancy?"

"No."

"Okay, then shoot."

"You know how I've been seeing Edward?"

"Yes?" She said. "Is everything going good with that?"

I made a noise of hesitation. "Yes, everything is fine. He's just…not doing anything." I winced.

"What do you mean?"

"He's shy and he won't _kiss_ me, Mom." I groaned. "It's driving me up the wall."

She laughed at me. "Bella, sometimes you just gotta grip the bull by the balls."

"That's a very astute – and unrefined – way of putting things, Mom."

"It's true, though." She said. "Relationships are like skydiving, Bella – nobody's going to jump for you. If you want to kiss him, make like Nike, and _just do it_."

It was a good idea. I could kiss him instead of waiting around for him to kiss me. _I could kiss him._ My heart sped up at that thought.

So, I decided to follow my mother's advice of 'gripping the bull by the balls' and planned to do it on our date later – which we had planned to go to the empty Forks High parking lot so I could show Edward how to drive stick – that I would kiss him. _I would kiss him._

I took the whole day to plan how I wanted to do it in my head – imagining myself pushing his red hair off of his forehead, imagining my nose brushing his, our lips connecting – two halves finally finding each other. I thought about it so many times, I felt like I had it memorized.

I was actually running through my plan in my head in the middle of our date, when I was abruptly yanked out of my fantasy when Edward jerked Earl as he stalled. My hand came out to brace myself so I didn't faceplant into the glove box.

"Sorry," He apologized and then sighed. "I'm pretty sure this is impossible."

I looked past Lenny - which was taking up the middle seat between us like a supervising parent - at Edward's angelic face. His lips twisted into a pout and his eyes flashed in irritation. I noted that the dark circles under his eyes looked a bit better. I had put a stop to late-night texting when I saw how physically drained he was when he would come into school the next day.

"Not impossible." I argued gently. "You just have to find the rhythm." I used my hands to demonstrate the clutch and the gas pedal again.

Edward twisted the ignition and the old truck revved to life and he shifted back into neutral. I watched him depress the clutch and shift into first. _Slowly._ I thought as I watched his right foot hit the gas, the engine roaring around us, and lift his foot up off the clutch. We lurched forward.

Stalled.

"Dammit." Edward hit the steering wheel in frustration.

I picked up Lenny – which was heavier than he looked - and put him on the floor next to my leg. I scooched closer so I could run my fingers through Edward's hair – one of my favorite things to do. He had nice, perfectly imperfect hair. "Maybe we should take a break?"

"Is that a car pun?" He grinned at me.

I made a face at him. "I'll make you walk back to La Push."

His fingers came out and delicately brushed my arm. He was always so careful, treating me like I was made out of porcelain and he was afraid that I would crack under his fingertips. "I wouldn't want that." He said, his emerald eyes looking into mine. I got lost in them, my mouth falling open.

I tried to push myself closer to him.

Lenny got in the way, however – a barricade protecting Edward from all the things I wanted to do with his body - and I looked around the cab for a different place to put him.

Edward picked him up by his handle and moved him to sit between his leg and the driver's side door. "There." He smiled again, but it quickly faded and he put his hand on his chest.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," He said, his eyes going tight. "Lenny's heavy."

"You're telling me." I said with a smile. "I'm glad he does his job, because he definitely throws his weight around."

Edward laughed and dropped his hand. "I have smaller tanks that I can carry with strap, but they don't last as long." He looked at me. "And I like spending as much time with you as possible."

His fingers brushed down my face, so soft he barely touched me at all. I felt my body shudder under the sensation, an electricity where his fingertips laid. I looked into his eyes again. _Mistake._ All comprehensible thoughts flying out of my head. Well, except for one. _Do it._ My inner-monologue screamed at me like it was shouting down a canyon. _Do it now._

"I want to kiss you, Edward." I blurted, my eyes fixed to his face. I was vaguely aware of the heat in my cheeks. I was very aware of the pulse thrumming in my head.

"Wha-," His face reddening and his eyes widening.

But, I didn't let him finish his thought. With Lenny out of the way, I could have full access. And I became the very definition of 'taking advantage.' I kissed him, my fingers of one hand finding his face and the other finding his chest. And he was sweeter than I could ever imagine. Minty and slightly floral.

He froze up. _Of course._ This was his first kiss. I pulled back. "You okay?" I repeated as I looked into his face that was so red, his freckles disappeared.

"Yeah." He squeaked, slightly dazed. "Fine."

I smiled. "I'm going to kiss you again."

"Okay." He said.

This time, he responded back. I ran my hands all over him: twisting my fingers into his hair, I ran them down his face, over his tubing, down his chest. He cupped my face with one hand the other on my waist. His tongue inserted itself into my mouth and I let it, almost groaning with how much _better_ this was compared to how I imagined it. My heart thrashed around so loud behind my sternum, he could probably hear it.

With a slight maneuver of my leg, I found his lap and got on top, straddling him. His hand found the small of my back and he pressed me so close, I could feel his erection through his jeans.

I was loosely aware of his breathing. Which at this proximity I could hear just how labored it was. I listened to it get chestier and harsher as he struggled to pull in oxygen through his nose. I pulled away to let him catch his breath, my hands still on his chest and our noses so close they were brushing.

I stared into his eyes, looking at the beautiful flecks of gold in them. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time." I admitted, smiling.

He smiled back as I listened to him suck in air through his nose and breathe it out of his mouth. "Me." He inhaled. "Too."

I pressed my lips to his collarbone and then into the hollow of his neck, breathing him in. He had a nice scent – not drenching himself in Axe body spray like most boys did. Fresh soap and a little cologne.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" He asked as I dragged my lips over his neck, over a short, horizontal scar that sat right under his adam's apples. I listened to his ragged breaths pick up as I did that

This was skipping some stuff on the relationship timeline I was pretty sure, but the question thrilled me – a jolt of electricity starting from the base of my scalp that shot down to my ankles. So, I didn't care. My heart hammered and it took all my strength not to throw myself around his neck and shout "Yes!" at the top of my lungs.

Instead I smiled and pulled back. "I'm on your lap, in my truck, _kissing_ you. I think that answers it."

His hands ran down my arm then gripped my fingers. His uneven grin found its way onto his face. "I guess not." He admitted. "Although, I'd really like to hear you say it."

"Okay," I pretended to sigh and roll my eyes. "Edward Black, I accept your offer and would be happy to be your girlfriend." I pecked him on the lips. "More than happy. _Ecstatic_."

"I appreciate your sacrifice." He chuckled and then kissed me again.

My heart beat sped up with my breathing. But, this kiss wasn't as fevered. It was long and passionate – a declaration of affection. I ran my fingers through Edward's hair and he ran his down my face.

I opened my mouth and let him in, my pulse quickening as I burned with desire. I guided one of his hands under my shirt and heard a little noise escape from him as his fingers brush my nipple through the thin material of my bra.

Sex was somewhere on that relationship timeline, but I couldn't remember where it sat at that very moment. _Right now._ I thought as my own hand found its way under Edward's shirt. My fingertips brushed over his bare chest, finding a small patch of chest hair and a large scar on the left side of his ribs.

"I want you so bad." He gasped, his fingers becoming more exploratory of my body.

"Then have me." I breathed back and then ran my mouth over his collarbone.

My inner-thigh vibrated.

I pulled back from his face, realizing that his phone was ringing. He shifted and fished it out of his pocket, glancing at the caller ID. _Mothership_ flashed across the screen with a picture of his smiling mom. His brows furrowed as I watched him contemplate silencing it.

"Take it." I urged with a smile. "I can wait."

He slid to answer it. "Hello?" I played with his hair as he talked with his mom, watching the thick red stick up as I moved it around. "Yes. Yeah, I know." He said. "Mmhm. I know. Yeah, I can do that." He said. "Hey, um, can I bring someone over for dinner?" His eyes flashed and he smiled. "Who? Well, my girlfriend. _"_ My heart palpitated when he said that word. _Girlfriend_. " _Yes_. Yes. 'kayloveyoubye." He sang at the end and hung up.

"I feel like there's a question coming." I said as I continued to mush his hair around.

"Yes," He sighed and put down his phone. "Can we stop at the Thriftway and pick up ranch dressing on the way back to La Push?"

I smiled and then shrugged. "I guess so."

He picked up my hand. "And would you like to come over for dinner and meet my parents?" His crooked grin stretched wide. "As my girlfriend?"

I looked into his eyes. "Yes." I squealed and pressed my face against his neck. "Yes. Yes!" I kissed him again – my new favorite thing to do.

* * *

 _September 1, 2016_

The I had butterflies in my stomach as we drove from Forks to La Push. Fluttering that turned into nausea as I realized I was going to be introduced to Edward's parents as his _girlfriend._ I kept my hands on the wheel of my truck at ten and two, knowing that if I let them off I would be chewing off all of my fingernails.

"I'm nervous." I admitted once we got parked in his driveway.

I had been her almost every night before when I dropped Edward off, but now everything seemed so _different._ The worn red paint of his house seemed brighter, the sky seemed bluer, the sunlight that forced itself past the clouds seemed warmer. I understood now why people put forth effort into romantic relationships – this high could not be rivaled.

"They're going to _love_ you." He assured. "They already know you, since you're Charlie Swan's daughter."

"That's fair." I said. "But, they don't know me as your girlfriend."

His eyes flashed and sparkled like a jewel under a spotlight. "I love it when you say that."

"What?"

"'Your girlfriend.'" He squeezed my hand. "It's sounds so nice-," He gasped a little, his eyes widening and his hand flew to his chest.

"Are you okay?" I blurted as I watched, the butterflies turning into full-on anxiety as I watched Edward grimace.

"Yeah," He said and rubbed the left side of his chest. "I, um," He winced and I moved over the bench to rub his back and listened to his breaths get wheezy. "I'm overdue for my nebulizer," He inhaled and then straightened up, his eyes rolling. "And my lungs never fail to remind me."

We walked up to his house hand-in-hand. I kept my eye on Edward, but besides a slight tightening of his eyes, he seemed okay. I looked down at our hands. While I was okay with waiting until he was ready to divulge his medical history, I silently hoped he did it soon so I knew when to worry and when to not.

I banished the worry about Edward's weak lungs when we got into the house. I looked around his living room like I was seeing it for the first time, even though I had just been here a couple of weeks ago. It was a well-loved room with a worn green couch and a beautiful Native American rug of different hues of red and blue hung on the wall behind it like a tapestry.

"Edward!" A woman's voice sang from the back of the house. I watched his mother – a tall, willowy woman with angular cheekbones, lovely copper complexion and a long curtain of black hair that streamed behind her – flash herself from the kitchen to us. "Introduce me to your girlfriend!"

Edward's face reddened when his mom appeared and I felt his hand tighten around mine. "This is Bella, my girlfriend." He stammered. "Bella, this is my mom."

"Hi," I greeted, my hand going clammy. "Nice to meet you, um, Mrs. Black."

"Oh, please." Edward's mom pulled me in for a hug, her black eyes sparkling. She smelled like cooking food and slight perfume. "Call me Sarah."

"Okay," I smiled at her when she pulled away, knowing full well I was going to call her Mrs. Black until the day I died. I handed over the bottle of ranch that we were tasked to pick up. "Here's your ranch."

"Thank you!" She said. "I need this for the chicken recipe. It's going to be ready in about forty-five minutes? Do you want anything to drink, Bella?"

"No, I'm good, thanks." I said.

"I'll show you my room." Edward volunteered, his hand on his chest again.

"Doors open." She said with stern voice, but had the biggest grin on her face. She looked back and forth between us and was almost dancing from foot-to-foot. "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

I followed him down a short hallway to the last door and then watched curiously as Edward shed the tubing around his face that connected him to Lenny and picked up another set of tubing that sat on his bed, put that on and then hit a switch on a blue machine that sat under his nightstand. It hummed to life like a low vacuum.

I took a seat on his bed next to him, surveying his room. It was messy, clothes and books strewn around. There was a stack of oxygen tanks in the corner, lined up against the wall like Apple fanboys waiting for the new iPhone. Some had red stickers on them that read EMPTY.

I looked back at Edward, who was fiddling with a whole different machine – this one smaller and silver with a white, plastic mouthpiece. He turned it on and it started to bubble the liquid inside of it, turning it into vapor, he held the mouthpiece and inhaled.

I looked around at all the medical equipment feeling myself bite my lip when I realized I had no clue what I was looking at. It was a little overwhelming. I wasn't sure where I was going to start learning about it all.

I guessed WebMD would be the best place to start, if Edward didn't feel comfortable enough explaining things to me yet. I started making a mental list of things I needed to learn now that I was girlfriend to someone who relied on supplemental oxygen, when Edward interrupted my thoughts. "What are you thinking about?"

"I'm trying to figure out what's the best way to crash course myself on oxygen therapy." I answered, as I surveyed the stuff I needed to start memorizing again. "The extent of my medical training is 'Gatorade and soup' so I should probably learn at least the basics of the equipment, you know, just in case I need to-,"

"Wait." He cut me off. I looked up and watched his eyebrows furrow in confusion as he sucked in more vapor. "You…want to learn…about my oxygen?"

"Well, yeah." I said, my turn to be confused. "What do you think I was thinking about?"

His eyes dropped to his lap. "That you were trying to calculate how fast you could run away."

"Why would I run away?"

He made a sweeping motion with his arm at his bedroom and then at himself. "Because I'm a medical nightmare."

I felt my mouth pop open. "You think you're going to scare me off?"

He blushed and then moved to turn his nebulizer off. "I keep waiting for it to happen." He said and played with his tubing. "For you to come to your senses. For you to see that you could do better than me." He inhaled and I could see tears mist his eyes. "Someone who doesn't slow you down."

"Edward," I scooched closer to him and then put my hand on his face so I could stare up into his eyes. "I can't do better, because you are the best. You're the only one I want."

"You shouldn't have to be figuring out where to crash course yourself on oxygen therapy, though." His eyebrows pulled together. "You shouldn't have to do that."

"But I'm going to anyway." I said. "Because it's apart of your life and I'm apart of your life and that's how it works. If you were," I made motion with my hand. "In a wheelchair, then I would be learning how to make a sick half-pipe. If you were blind, I would be figuring out how to be the best seeing-eye girlfriend in existence." I smiled. "If you were a vampire, I would be researching on how to turn myself nocturnal."

"Well, I'm not that." He smiled gently.

I chuckled. "But, that's how it works when you love someone – you love _every_ part of them, the good, the bad and the ugly. And I'm a _very_ thorough person."

He kissed me suddenly, his hands on my face. I froze for the briefest of seconds before I kissed him back, my fingers knitting themselves into his hair and my heart speeding up.

He pulled back looked at me, his green eyes intense on mine. I got lost in the ethereal depths of his eyes. "Okay." He whispered.

"Okay what?"

"Ask me whatever you want." He sucked in a breath and looked around. "Anything."

"Oh," I looked around too. My stomach flipped as I began to feel overwhelmed on where to start. I had a million questions. And new ones would come to me everyday as I watched him interact with his own body. What was the pill he took at lunch and the inhaler he used? Why did he tick up his oxygen sometimes? What did the numbers mean? What was that machine and that machine and that machine? Why did he touch his chest and wince? Did it hurt? _What happened?_

There was a crash and we both jumped. Suddenly, the moving wall that was Jacob burst into the room, his shirt wet with sweat.

"Bro, I got the _best-,_ " He hollered and the skidded to stop when he saw me. "Bella, hey!"

"Hey, Jake." I blushed and moved to lace my fingers with Edward's.

"Jacob you have impeccable timing; you know that?" Edward's words dripped heavy with sarcasm.

"Sorry _not_ sorry." He said, his big cheesy grin spreading over his face. "I got a date for homecoming."

"Great," Edward said and rolled his eyes, his fingers tightening around mine. "Now leave us _alone_."

"But, _wait._ " He said. "That means that we can go together as a double date!"

Edward's arms moved to encircle my shoulders and he looked down at me and smiled. "I don't know." He said. "I think I just want to take my girlfriend, you know, make it about just us." He ran his eternally cool fingers down my cheek and I shuddered under his touch.

"Girlfriend?" Jacob repeated, his expressive face cycling through the different stages of disbelief. "Girlfriend? _Girlfriend_?"

"You might want to say it a couple of more times for added effect." Edward joked, his crooked smile widening and his eyes dancing.

"I'm so _fucking_ happy for you, Edboy!"

" _Language_!" Mrs. Black called from the other part of the house.

Jacob grinned. "Homecoming is going to be _so lit_!"

"Who are you going with?" I asked.

"Lauren Mallory." He said and flexed his bicep. "Captain of the cheer squad and hottest girl in school."

"Hey!" Edward scowled and tightened his arm around me. _I like it when he got protective._ I thought and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Sorry, Bella." Jacob said. "But, bro! Both of us with our ladies." His eyes went distant as he imagined it. But, then his expression suddenly downshifted. "I have no idea how to dance, though." Jacob said. "I'm going to step all over Lauren's feet."

"Well," Edward said and shrugged. "You're asking the _wrong_ guy."

"Wait," I said, my eyes moving back and forth between the two brothers. "I can teach you how to dance."

"You know how to dance?"

I smiled. "Yeah, my mom likes signing us up for random classes at the Y and salsa dancing was one of them. I think she just did it to flirt with cute teacher that looked like a hotter version of Benicio Del Toro." I shrugged. "But, I learned how to step in a somewhat rhythmic fashion in the four times we attended. I could show you really quick?"

Jacob's black eyes widened. "Will you teach me? _Please_?"

I looked at Edward, who was glaring at Jacob. "It's up to you."

"Edward," Jacob's eyes snapped to him. "Please. Please. I want to impress Lauren. _Please_."

He inhaled and I watched his hand go to his side again. I looked up into his face, but he didn't look like he was in pain. But, given that scar that I felt, he probably wasn't a wimp when it came to pain. "Yeah." He pouted. "It's fine."

"Are you sure?" I asked, feeling my eyebrows furrow. I didn't want to make Edward feel bad.

"Well, you're not going to leave us alone until she does." Edward said to Jacob, his arms crossing over his chest. "So I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"Don't be salty, bro." Jacob said, his cheesy grin on his face. "Fifteen minutes, _tops_."

I stood up and kissed Edward – full-on, with tongues, my hands in his hair and on his face – just to reaffirm my devotion and commitment to him. Jacob whooped behind us.

I turned to Jacob, taking a place next to him. I showed him how to count the eight beats in his head and then I showed him how to step into the four positions. Once he had mastered that – which didn't take too long, Jake seemed pretty nimble on his feet - I pulled my cell phone, navigated to the music app, and turned on a song by one of the Latino artists that the Hispanic kids from my old school in Phoenix liked to play.

"Now, salsa is really just those eight steps." I explained as I adjusted his arm positions and then took his hands – which were large so they completely engulfed mine. I started counting in my head and moving my feet. "With a partner, you're like moving in the same way – like mirrors to each other." I started to step forward, and Jake automatically stepped back.

We grooved to the music and I swung my hips from side-to-side. I watched Jacob glance at his feet and then at me, his mouth moving as he counted. I pulled his hand and we swung around, adding extra space between us. Jacob smiled when he saw that he successfully moved without stepping on me.

"You just end up in the same starting position, doing the same steps." I said and I let him spin me this time, adjusting his hand on my waist so he knew where to hold. "There," I said as I watched Jake smile as he spun me again, his large arm going above my head. "You got it."

"I'm the dancing _master_."

"I want to try." Edward said and we both stopped. I turned and watched him

"Edboy." Jake said and I watched his black eyes flash with brief intensity at Edward.

"It's fine." Edward groaned back and moved to insert himself between me and Jake. "It looks pretty easy."

I worried my lip, unsure but Edward took my hands anyway. He was tall – taller than me, but he wasn't as large as Jacob. He also was not as sure on his feet, however he did not count out loud like Jacob did, so he had that going for him.

I tried to be careful, though. Edward wasn't fragile, but he wasn't a brick house like Jacob either. I slowed down when I listened to his breathing go labored. He didn't want to slow down though, his feet picking back up as he took the lead. He spun me around, his hand on my waist.

"You're a good dancer." I said as I let him spin me around again.

"I have a good-," Edward stopped and I stopped with him, his hands flying to his chest and his face twisting into a grimace. The pain in his eyes became palpable.

"Edward, are you-," I started, my voice hitching with worry and my hands going to his shoulders.

A series of events occurred at that point. I felt like I was sucked into nightmare. I felt like I fell down the rabbit hole, watching a horrible catastrophe happen right before my eyes.

"Edward!" I watched his green eyes go blank and then his eyelids slide shut. With a sigh, his body went limp and I encircled my arms around him to keep him from slamming to the ground, struggling to keep us both upright under his weight.

"Mom!" Jacob shouted – a thunderous noise – and he vaporized at my elbow and helped me lower Edward to the carpet.

"Get the mask, Bella." Jake ordered and then pointed at the nightstand. I rushed like I was ordered to – my limbs feeling detached from my body, moving on their own like they had grown their own brains – and found a clear oxygen mask sitting on top of the blue machine. I grabbed it and handed it to Jacob.

"What's going on?" Mrs. Black said as she came into the room and lowered herself next to Edward's prone body.

"He's not breathing." Jacob said and undid the tubing around his face, replacing it with the oxygen mask. "He was dancing and passed out."

"He's burning up." His mother said as she pressed her hands to Edward's cheeks. "We need to get him to Forks."

"I'm sorr-," I started, feeling the panic twisted up my guts. _This was all my fault_. The whole afternoon flashed in front of my eyes. _All my fault_. How do you even apologize to someone for wrecking their son and brother? For _hurting_ him?

"It's okay, Bella. Stuff like this happens." Mrs. Black interrupted – her voice calm, but her eyes worried as she helped get Edward's unconscious body into Jake's arms. "Can you grab Lenny?"

I turned around and grabbed the handle of Lenny, picking him up and following them out to the living room. Mrs. Black rushed around the house, her hair a black stream behind her. Jacob took Edward to the gold Buick in the driveway. I opened the back door for

"Get in the backseat with Edward, Bella." Jake said and I did as I was ordered again, numbly sliding in. Mrs. Black and Jake got Edward in and I held his head in my lap, the mask on his face now connected to Lenny, which was going full blast.

We raced to Forks and I watched in shock as both Jacob and Mrs. Black get on their phones. Jacob was talking to the hospital, telling them that we were coming and what state Edward was in, using large, scary medical Mrs. Black was on the phone with the La Push dispatcher, trying to get in touch with Edward's dad.

They were both so calm. – the eye of a category five hurricane. Everything centered on them as they worked to get Edward to help. _How do they do that? How they remain so calm?_

I looked at Edward, whose head was on my lap, my hand over the oxygen mask on his face. His breaths were coming in quick and shallow and harsh, like he was drowning. His lips had turned a cool shade of blue and there was a stripe of red over his nose and cheeks. I pressed my hand to his forehead. _He was so warm_. Feverish. Was he always this warm? I had my hands all over him all day. I don't remember him being this warm.

 _I'm so sorry Edward._

"Bella, baby." Edward's mom said from the front seat. I looked up to see that she had twisted herself around to face us. "It's okay. Edward will be okay." She assured. _Why are you trying to comfort me?_ I thought, my heart in my throat. _I did this._ "Stuff like this happens."

I was panicking – hyperventilating. I felt tears in my eyes and hot on my face. It knotted up my insides so bad I couldn't breathe. Edward and I were two vessels of malfunctioning lungs, drowning under the forces of our own bodies.

We pulled through the Forks Emergency room driveway, parking right in front of the automatic door. A couple of hospital staff members dressed in scrubs opened up the back of the car. They got Edward out and off of my lap and onto a gurney – replacing Lenny's mask with a different one that had a big squeezy top.

I got out of the car as soon they had Edward off of me and followed everyone into the Emergency Room, chasing after the gurney that wheeled Edward away, hospital staff members buzzing around him like tiel-clad bumblebees around a honey pot.

"No chest sounds." Someone said.

"We have sixty-two percent sat…"

"Someone dispatch for air evac…"

"Don't you dare intubate him!" Mrs. Black said as she followed them through the double doors that separated the waiting room from where they saved people, powerwalking to keep up with them. "HFT _only_!"

I watched frozen to the ground as the doors swung shut, the other half of my heart disappearing behind them, feeling crushed under the weight of my own guilt.

* * *

 **Hello, Bueller? I see y'all reading. If you like what you see (or don't) then let me know! I love reviews.**

 **Things were starting to get a little too comfy. I mean, this is a drama, right?**


	11. Chapter 11

_Jacob_

 _September 1, 2016_

I watched Bella's knees shake and give as she sucked in air and stared at the double doors of the Emergency Room, her eyes wide. I moved quickly to keep her from collapsing like a house of cards onto the floor. "Alright." I said as I led her to an empty chair. "First twenty ER visits are always the hardest."

She didn't resist, instead shuffling over like a _Walking Dead_ zombie and hanging her head in her hands once she got sat.

"I did this." She said, tears streaming hard down her face and mixing with the snot that was trailing down from her nostrils. "I shouldn't have let him dance. It was stupid of me. And I kissed him today." She babbled, her head shaking. "I did _this_. I did this to Edward."

"No, Bella." I said and sunk down next to her, putting my mother's purse into the seat next to me. "This is just Edward's life."

"Why, though?" She exploded at me. "Why _him_?"

I shook my head. "We've been asking that since his first cancer diagnosis."

She froze up, all the color draining from her face and her already large eyes bugging out of her head. "Cancer?" She choked. " _Cancer_?"

 _Has he still not told her anything?_ I felt my mouth pop open as I regarded her red and splotchy face that cycled quickly through disbelief, worry, shock and fear. "Yeah, Bella. He's been fighting cancer since he was twelve."

"He doesn't have it _now_ , does he?" Her hands wrung on her lap.

I shook my head. "As far as I know, he doesn't. He's been in remission for two years." _But, that doesn't mean there's a chance it could be back._ I winced at my own thoughts, the knots of anxiety twisting up my guts.

She leaned forward and put her head between her knees like they instruct you to do when you're in an emergency on airplanes. I watched her shoulder blades contract through her shirt as she had her panic attack.

I honestly wanted to join her – my heart pounding hard in my own chest – but I choked those feelings down and put on the façade of calm. I had my missions to accomplish and I wouldn't be able to do them if I was also freaking the fuck out.

The first mission was checking Edward in at the front desk. I turned and picked up my mom's purse, fished out the insurance cards and the list of Edward's current medications that she always kept in there and then stood up to talk to the front desk.

"Jake?" Bella started and I turned to look into her face. "He's going to be okay, right?"

I sucked in a hard breath and looked at the double doors.

There was a handful of things that could be wrong with Edward - starting from hypoxia, which is just a fancy word for 'under-oxygenated' all the way to new lung mets – which meant the cancer was back and had spread.

The most likely, pneumonia, could be on either side of mild or severe. It was sneaky motherfucker and tended to grab Edward when he was the most vulnerable and then wreaked a bunch of havoc - like putting him on his ass for weeks, turning into new infections, and forcing him back on intubation. And every time he came down with pneumonia, his fibrosis got that much worse – slowly killing his lungs one bout at a time until they couldn't do their jobs at all.

I looked at Bella. She didn't need Edward's whole medical history at the moment, though. She needed hope. _She needed strength_. "Yeah," I nodded at her as I watched her wipe her face on her sleeves. "He'll be okay."

I went to the front desk, handing over his list of medications, the card for Dr. Hot, and the insurance information. They had Edward's medical history and personal info on file already, since we were decorated, hardened veterans of the Forks ER.

"She's cute," Carrie, the front desk for the ER said as she ran the insurance information and motioned to Bella. "She yours?"

"Edward's, actually." I said and drummed my fingers on the counter.

Carrie's eyes widened in surprise. "Good for him." She refreshed her computer and read her screen. "I have an update for you - he's being moved to Olympic."

I wasn't surprised. That was standard operating procedure for Forks, since they were basically a glorified flu shot clinic. Olympic was where Edward's physicians were.

"Air or ground?"

"Air."

 _Fuck._ I ran my fingers through my hair to mask my worry. Air transportation meant that Edward wasn't completely stable yet, but they were moving him anyway. Air transportation meant it was serious. Air transportation meant he needed an ICU as soon as possible.

 _Please don't let it be cancer._ I chanted in my head and moved back to sit with Bella, who had straightened back up and resigned to quietly sniffling. _Please don't let it be cancer._

"They're moving him." I said to as I sunk down in uncomfortable the gray chair.

"Where?"

"To Olympic in Port Angeles." I shrugged and looked at the commercial ceiling tiles, squinting at a hook that was left in probably from Christmas, when they would decorate the ER with garland. "That's pretty routine. All of his doctors are in PA."

Bella rubbed her hands together and then ran them on the thighs of her black jeans. "What then?"

I continued to squint at the hook as I felt my stomach twist itself around like a Chinese acrobat. "Well, it depends on a bunch of things."

"Like?" She pressed.

"What's wrong with him."

There was a suffocating, pregnant silence. "If it's cancer?" She whispered.

I looked at her. "He'll be moved to Seattle at that point, probably."

Her face cycled through emotions again. "Cancer." She whispered and started to work herself up again, her head shaking back and forth. " _Cancer_?"

"Bella," I straightened up. "It's a very small chance that it's cancer. He just got tested for the other day and it was negative, okay?"

She calmed down, but her eyebrows were still pulled together. "How do you do it?" She asked.

"Do what?"

"Remain so calm."

I looked at her, right into her brown eyes that spilled all of her secrets right onto her face. "Practice," I answered and glanced at the double doors again. "Lots and lots of practice."

* * *

 _December 25, 2011_

After two weeks of being in the hospital, Edward – now bald and gaunt-looking like Jack Skellington – was allowed to go home.

The doctors gave my parents a bunch of instructions. They were told when Edward would need to come back for more chemo treatments, what medications Edward needed to take and when, how to take care of the robot IV port in Edward's chest - which I learned was called a central line – and how to tell if Edward was coming down with an infection.

Edward himself had a bunch of instructions too.

He was told that he had to wear a medical mask when he was in school or had to go to keep himself from getting sick while he was still on chemo. He hated it, even after I drew a smiley face on it. He had to drink these chocolate protein shake things at night, since he never wanted to actually eat his dinner. And if he was starting to feel sick – even just the sniffles - he had to tell Mom or Dad _immediately._ That was the most important, since he was basically the bubble boy now.

Mom checked Edward out of school and they went to Port Angeles every three weeks for more chemo at this outpatient center. It was different from the first couple of weeks of chemo. Instead of a bed, they would set him up in a chair, hook the darkened IV bag to his central line and he would attempt to do homework until the chemo made him too sick to do anything but barf into his bucket.

My instructions were not as complicated – 'be nice to your brother.' And my self-imposed instruction of 'be strong for your brother.' Easy peasy. _Most_ of the time.

Besides a slight adjustment of how we did things to accommodate Edward's new needs, we were able to slip back into a normal routine. We were able to almost forget about it.

 _Most of the time._

Once, in the middle of the night, I had woken up to get water and heard Mom crying to Dad behind the closed door of their bedroom. I stopped for a second to listen.

"What if he relapses, Billy?" She sobbed. "We're not matches for bone marrow. None of us. What would we _do_?"

"They have a registry for unrelated donors and Dr. McCarty said that we could look into harvesting his own bone marrow in case it does come back." My dad said, his voice so soft I almost couldn't make out his voice. "Medicine works miracles every day, Sare."

"He had that old, ratty sweater on that he loves so much. You know, the blue one? And I joked that he was going to wear it under his tux on his wedding day." She sobbed harder. "What if he never makes it there, Billy?" She sobbed harder.

My parents made a big deal when Christmas started rolling around. Well, Mom always made a big deal when it came to Christmas, but even Dad seemed to throw himself into the festivities a little harder than he usually did. We watched movies and baked cookies and picked out a tree as a family and looked at lights. I think it was used as a distraction. Maybe they felt bad for Edward. Who knows? I was just excited that Christmas was finally here.

So excited, that as I was trying to get over the guard of my bunk early Christmas morning, I slipped and fell, my head cracking against the black metal on my way down. I hit the ground with a sharp ' _oof_!' and my ears rang like someone banged a gong next to my head.

"Are you okay?" Edward pitched himself out of bed to my side, his hairless eyebrows pulling together in worry. Without his red hair to break up his face, his green eyes were intense and startling.

"Yeah," I said and rubbed my head where I got it on the bunk, feeling a lump forming under the skin.

"What happened?" I heard Mom say from the doorway.

"Jake fell out of bed." Edward moved to let her in.

"Oh, Jake." She gathered me against her and pried my fingers from my forehead. "Let me see."

"Mom," I groaned and pushed myself away, blushing. "I don't need to be cuddled. I'm _not_ a baby."

"You're going to have an egg." She pressed her fingers to my forehead. The pressure caused my head to throb with pain. "You need to use the stairs, Jake." She gently scolded. "That's why they're there."

"I'm okay." I insisted and got to my feet, eager to get to my presents. I steadied myself, my toes gripping the carpet fibers. But, the room started to spin fast like one of those carnival rides where it presses you against the wall and I suddenly felt like I was going to barf. "Oh," I said as my hands came out for something to grab and hold onto. "I don't feel so good."

"Ja-," My mom started, her eyes widening in shock as she watched but I blacked out before she could get my full name out.

I woke up to my head feeling like had been hooked up to a helium machine, blown up like a balloon and was on the verge of popping. My forehead throbbed with my heartbeats, sending a wave of pain through my whole head. I groaned and felt the lump that was forming under the skin.

I looked up to Edward - whose eyes were worried as they peaked out of the open space between his surgical mask and his black beanie – but he was fuzzy like I was trying to look at him on a television with really bad reception. "Where am I?" I garbled.

"In the car." He said, his hand on my shoulder. "We're taking you to the hospital."

 _Hospital._ It repeated over and over in my head until it didn't sound like a word in English anymore. It sounded like a word in an alien language. Wait. _Presents_. I jerked suddenly. It was _Christmas._ Why are we in the car going to the hospital?

"Is he awake?" I heard Mom and could see her through the fog. "Baby, you hit your head. Don't fall asleep, okay?" She sounded worried.

"Mom," I said and tried to pick my head up, but everything started to spin again, so I put it back down. "I don't think I can-," I fell back into unconsciousness.

I woke up again to fingers. _Fingers?_ They were definitely fingers - gloved fingers. I looked through the haze – which had gotten a lot better than it was in the car. Just a slight fuzz around the edges – at an older doctor with salt and pepper hair. He was rubbing the spot on my forehead. "Welcome back, Jacob." He smiled down at me. "How's your head feeling?"

"Okay, I guess." I said, even though my head throbbed. _Damn, these lights are bright._ I held up my hand to shield my eyes from the fluorescent spotlight that the doctor had angled over my face.

"Can you tell me what year it is?" He asked.

I looked around him at the big open medical space. There were a bunch of white beds set up in a row with curtains in-between them. I was in the emergency room. I found my mother, who had taken my other hand next to the bed and was worrying her lower lip.

"Twenty-eleven." I answered as I surveyed the room.

"Who's the president?"

"Obama."

"Who gets a candy cane because he was a good sport?" The doctor pulled a candy cane out of the pocket of his lab coat.

"Me." I said with a smile and he handed over the prize.

I sat up in the bed and undid the wrapper, watching the doctor turn to Mom on my left. "He has a slight concussion, nothing to worry about." The doctor said and handed over the discharge papers. "I would take some aspirin-free pain reliever like ibuprofen and take it easy for the rest of the day. If he has other odd symptoms, bring him back in to see us." He turned back to me. "Merry Christmas, Jacob."

"Merry Christmas." I said and watched him head over to the next patient.

I hopped out of bed, eager to get home to presents and out from under the bright light. I used Mom's arm to steady myself as the world still wasn't completely balanced yet and followed her out of the double doors and into the waiting room.

Edward and Dad were waiting in pajamas and slippers – and Edward's beanie he never left the house without. I marched up to Edward, who had gotten to his feet when they saw us. "I got to see the doctor and he gave me a candy cane." I shoved my prize into Edward's face as I held onto Mom's arm like a life raft as my head swam and throbbed. "Ha!"

Edward pulled his mask down and grinned. "That's fine." He said. "I think I prefer to be out here anyway."

* * *

 _September 1, 2016_

Mom came out of the ER doors steaming mad, about ready to punch someone in the face and marched up to me. "Forks is going to give me an aneurysm." She spat and yanked up her purse.

"Well," I answered after fidgeting on my phone while Bella and I waited in silence for our next mission. "Do they know what it is?"

"They're thinking it's pleural effusion." She threw her hands up. "They think that is _may_ also be pneumonia. Fluid inside or out? It's really _not_ that hard, guys."

"Did they get him stable?"

Mom nodded, the anger steaming out of her a little bit. "At least enough to get him to Olympic."

"I'm so sorry-," Bella started in a small voice.

"Honey," She cut Bella off, who just scrunched up her shoulders at the interruption, her eyes widening. "It's not your fault. Really." My mom said, but her tone was irritated and cross.

I winced and shot Bella an apologetic look. Mom turned into 'Momma Bear' when it came to emergency room visits, barking orders and bullying the hospital staff. It was embarrassing as shit when she would get in some poor, overworked RN's face for something stupid. But, it was her learned method of coping. Otherwise, she would probably be in the same shape as Bella.

"Your father is going to meet us at Olympic." My mom shot Bella a look. "We can drop Bella off on the way."

"No," Bella said, her eyes flashing as she jumped to her feet. "I'm going to Olympic."

"Bella," My mom's tone softened a little. "He's going to the ICU and they're not really going to let you see him. They don't even really let us see him and we're-,"

"Then I'll stay in the waiting area." Bella stepped forward, her soft brown eyes going hard like rocks of ancient amber and her face going red. "I'm going to be there for him. I'm his _girlfriend_."

My mom took at step back at Bella's rapid change of demeanor. "Okay, baby. We'll all go then." She nodded and encircled her arms around Bella's shoulders.

That's what we did. Bella sat in the back seat, her eyes fixed on the tree line as we sped to Port Angeles. I watched her in the rearview mirror finger a peeling sticker on Lenny, her eyes shifting from remorse to anxiety as she chewed on her lip.

Mom drove, her expression scowling and then relaxing only to flare up into a scowl again as she ran the afternoon's events through her head.

I sighed and glanced at the sky, looking for the helicopter that had him in it, knowing full well it was way ahead of us by now. _How're you doing, Edward?_ Anxiety twisted me all up, tangling my intestines like my earbuds when I left them in my pocket. My hands were clammy, sweaty as I thought about all the things that could be wrong with Edward. _Please don't be cancer._

We got to Olympic, parked in the garage and heading straight for pediatric intensive care unit's waiting room. Dad was already there, still in his trousers and the blue LPFD t-shirt. I watched him briefly regard Bella with momentary confusion, but he quickly shifted it to my mother.

"Any word?" My mom asked.

He shook his head. "They just got him in about twenty minutes ago."

"What about Dr. Hale?"

My dad shook his head. "She's coming." While my mother became the bully in hospitals, my dad took a very backseat approach to ER visits, choosing to be the voice of reason and keep Mom from going ham like she wanted to. He was seriously the yin to Mom's yang.

That didn't satisfy my mother. Her black eyes went hard and she marched herself past the double doors that you were only allowed through when someone came and got you. Dad followed on her heels. "Sare, just let them do their jobs…"

I sighed as I watched them and then turned to Bella, who was inspecting the other poor, unlucky souls who were waiting for their loved one's to pull through or go to the light on the other side of the wall. "I'll show you our spot." I said and motioned to the door.

I led her down the hall that was decorated with Loony Toon's characters to the last door on the left, right across the way from the in-hospital chapel. The Mary C. Barnes room – a tiny waiting room with three chairs and a Spongebob Squarepants television - memorialized to some kid who bit the dust from some sort of cancer. It was always empty, since no one knew about it and that's why I liked it.

"What now?" Bella asked as she sat down.

I sunk down and sighed, letting my tailbone coast to almost the edge of my seat. "Now, we wait."

We fiddled with our stuff in silence, trying not to think. I scrolled my phone, half-heartedly texted Lauren and fought off the urge to have a panic attack, sighing through my nose when my heart pounded too loud in my chest.

Bella had her phone too, but she just flipped it around in her hands and stared at light above us, her breathing slowly increasing in speed.

It was about an hour of that before Bella broke the silence.

"Okay," She finally said, her head shaking. "I can't do it anymore."

I looked at Bella, tears staining her face red and felt myself sigh a little internally. I was so happy that he found a girl that was willing to look past the medical stuff, but even the strongest had a breaking point, I guessed. _He's going to be so crushed when he wakes up and she's not there._ The knots in my stomach unclenched and a new feeling moved in – grief. "Bella, I know that all of it a lot. But, Edward really, really likes you." I tried. "He might even be in love-,"

"What are you talking about?" Her face distorted with confusion.

"You're not…breaking up with Edward?"

Her mouth popped open. "No, I'm not _leaving_ Edward." She shook her head. "Why does everyone think that I'm trying to get out as fast as I can? He's _sick_ , not, like, a murderer or something." She groaned with frustration. "I just…I can't not _know_ anymore."

"Not know what?"

"Everything." She whispered and hung her head in her hands. "I wanted him to tell me. I wanted to hear his story when he was ready." She had started to sob again. "But, every second I sit here not knowing is _agonizing,_ Jake. I just hear cancer over and over in my head and it keeps getting louder. I want to be _strong_ for him, like you. I want to be someone he can rely on and I just-"

"I'll tell you." I cut her off and then sighed. "He was probably going take a million years to tell you anyway."

"He said I could ask questions, but," Her hands clenched into fists. "I don't know where to start." She whispered.

I regarded her. I liked Bella and now that I knew that she was in it for the long haul, I had found new respect for her. I could tell her. It would suck ass, but I could do it. I had one hang-up that needed to be taken care of first. "Do you love him?" I asked bluntly.

"What?" She squeaked.

"I have to make sure you love him." I said. "Because you can't treat him differently after I tell you. You still have to see Edward first and then cancer, while the rest of the world sees cancer first and then Edward."

She thought about it, running her lower lip through her teeth. Her eyes went analytical for a second, like she was trying to figure out a puzzle. "Yes," She finally whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "I think I love him."

I nodded, satisfied with that answer. "Okay," I inhaled. "Edward was diagnosed at twelve with acute myeloid leukemia." I started. "It's a common leukemia that affects white blood cells, but it's pretty rare in kids. We got it the first time with chemo. The first time was pretty easy, actually." I rubbed my palm on my pants. "We caught it early."

"And it came back?" She prompted.

I nodded and dropped my eyes to my lap. "When he was fourteen, he relapsed, which meant the AML came back." I felt my breathing pick up. "But, he kept it a secret, so it went crazy and metastasized to his lungs."

"Why did he keep it a secret?"

My stomach flipped and I shrugged, trying to keep it casual, but my shoulders were too jerky, giving away my worry and fear and bad memories. "A lot of reasons." I answered. "None of which we blame him for."

"And then what happened?"

I looked at Bella, feeling my carefully built and refined exterior falter a little. My breathing hitched with tears and my voice cracked "And then we almost lost him."

* * *

 _August 5, 2013_

Edward screamed.

"Geez, Edward." I said. "Don't be a girl about it."

"Yeah. Come on, Red." Quil said as he shoulder-shoved Edward's skinny white ass towards the edge of the cliff. "You _have_ to jump. We all have, but you."

"I have decided that I prefer my feet firmly on solid ground." He fought back, his heels digging into the top of the cliff. His blew in the breeze around his face and his green eyes were wide. He twisted around so he could grab Quil's arms and push him away.

We were enjoying our last sunny Saturday on the beach before school started. We were all starting high school next week. Which meant things like curfews and homework again. We needed one more day of freedom, one more day in the summer sun.

"Come on, Edward." I goaded as I sat on the edge of the cliff, my legs hanging off the side. "You _have_ to jump."

"Yeah," Embry said next to me. "It's just, what, fifty feet?"

"Then you jump!" Edward retorted, still fighting Quil and making a face at all of us. He was just in his swim trunks, and the bright sun above our head made all of his freckles all over his body pop out.

"Okay." Embry said cheerfully and got to his feet. He was growing his hair out 'native style' and had it tied into a pony-tail behind his head. He backed up about five or six feet and then ran past the edge of the cliff, whooping all the way until he hit the ocean below with a splash.

"I'll jump with you." I volunteered and got to my feet.

"No, you're just going to shove me in." He scowled at me. I had grown over the summer and now surpassed Edward in height and weight, so his idea that I was just going to toss him into the water was not _completely_ off the mark.

I grinned. "No, I won't." I lied.

Edward was fast, though – ridiculously fast. With quick movement of his feet, he disappeared into a blur of red hair and white skin and suddenly reappeared behind Quil. With a shove, he pushed Quil over the edge of the cliff.

"Fuck you, Red!" Quil yelled and then balled himself up before he hit the surface.

We both laughed at our friends, who were now treading water below us, yelling at us to jump in.

"I don't want to go back to school." I groaned and looked out onto the ocean. There were outcroppings of rocks that interrupted the smooth, straight line of the horizon. I watched the high sun

"It's not that bad." Edward assured, his green eyes squinting out at the ocean with me. "We're in high school, now. So that's something."

"It's the same damn school." I groaned. "We're just in a different building."

Edward laughed, his head of thick, wavy hair blowing around his face. It was the same color – dark red, like new copper – but the chemo had made it come in wavy. "Chemo perm" is what one of the oncology nurses said the last time he went to get tested.

I glanced at his little scar that sat under his collar bone where he had his port – his souvenir of cancer. It seemed like a weird, hazy nightmare now. And if you looked at Edward now - thin, but solidly athletic and an incredibly fast runner – cancer wouldn't even cross your mind.

"You think we're going to have a good year?" I asked.

"It better be." Edward's green eyes flashed at me and his lopsided smile made its way on his face. "It better be the best."

"Come on!" Quil shrieked from the water. " _Pussies_!"

"Will you jump with me?" Edward said, his eyes flashing with fear.

"Always, bro." I smiled back, my hand finding his shoulder.

We backed up together, ran and threw ourselves over the edge. Edward shrieked and I kept my eye on him as we plunged towards the water, feet first, arms out.

It might've been the light. A shadow. A smudge of dirt from the cliff. Grease. A mirage. A hallucination. And I only saw it for a beat, one half-second, just long enough to register it. But, I could've sworn - sworn with my hand on a Bible – that there was a bruise on Edward's thigh.

* * *

 **Thanks for the reviews palorinos you da best**


	12. Chapter 12

_Edward_

 _?_

There was a light above the bed in hospital rooms – a tube of fluorescent white that sat behind a little cover - that I swear they would turn on above my head just to disorientate and confuse me.

I opened my eyes to this light forged in the pits of Hell itself, promptly blinded myself, and then squeezed my eyes shut and groaned.

Now that I was firmly aware that I was in the hospital. _Fucking great._ I went through my routine of opening one eye and then the other. I had about fifteen seconds of delayed reaction to get a bearing of my surroundings before the discomfort and pain set in.

I looked to my left and found the glass partition that looked out onto the nurses' station, where I saw a nurse behind the counter charting. And my parents weren't here, probably corralled in the waiting area. That meant I was in the ICU. _Fucking great._ I repeated in my head.

My fingers went to my face first and then my throat. I wasn't intubated - instead finding the thick, corded cannula of high-flow therapy strapped to my face. That made me feel a _little_ bit better.

The pain set in at that point. First all the ones I associated with hospital stays – my tailbone from sitting up on my ass for days on end, the four failed IV sticks in my arm from a recent nursing school graduate, my dry throat, the deep ache in my chest from whatever my lungs decided to come down with this time around.

And then a new one. A sharp, shooty pain about five or six inches under my left nipple. My fingers went to the spot and I found a bandage and then a tube. The pain was like being shanked in the side and throbbed hard. Tears prickled my eyes and I hit the call button.

A young nurse dressed in the teal scrubs of the ICU came in carrying a syringe. "Hey, buddy." She greeted and turned my light off.

"Hi." I managed.

"You ready for pain meds?"

I nodded, tears flowing freely down my face.

She injected the syringe in my line and the familiar fuzzy high of morphine dulled the pain in my side to an uncomfortable stab. "I'm going to let your family know you're awake, okay?"

"Okay." I said again. "Just my parents, though?" I wasn't completely up to dealing with Jake and his larger-than-life personality at this second.

"You got it, bud."

A couple of minutes later Mom and Dad hurried through the glass partition into my room. We went through the rigmarole of 'how are you feeling's at which I answered 'fine' and then they gathered up my hands in each of theirs and told me what was wrong.

Pleural effusion. I had liquid around my lungs caused by a 'touch' of pneumonia and they had to insert the stabby, shanky tube to drain it. I glanced at my right and found the Mountain Dew 2-liter-looking bottle that was about half-full of brown liquid.

"It's not cancer?" I asked, my eyes on my mother, who was petting my hair like a cat. That was a pretty stupid question. I _just_ went in for an aspiration and it came back normal. But, I asked anyway because cancer was a bitch and it had a way of rearing its ugly-ass head at the most unexpected times.

"No, baby." She answered and petted me more vigorously. "Your cancer isn't back. You just overworked yourself and were also a little sick. That's why you passed out."

I sighed - sort of - with relief, my tired, exhausted lungs protesting with the exertion. So, the chest pain from the other day wasn't cancer-pain. It was lungs-working-too-hard-pain. Lungs-swimming-in-liquid-pain. Not-giving-my-lungs-a-break-pain.

My eyes slid shut, even though I had just woken up – part morphine, part relief, part exhaustion – and I let myself drift back into unconsciousness.

* * *

 _September 6, 2016_

I woke up to that damned, torturous light again, went through my routine of getting my bearings again, and felt the stabbing, shooting pain in my side again.

Luckily, I didn't have to hit a call button to ask for pain meds this time around, because there was a nurse in my room already, fiddling with a machine at my head. She dumped pain meds – not morphine this time, something different that didn't completely dull out of the pain, which sucked – into my drip and then turned to me.

"Good morning, sunshine." She greeted with a smile.

I eyeballed her and didn't say anything. She was an older nurse. That could be good or bad. Older nurses tended to be two extremes – the grandma you never had but wish you did or a demon-spawned hag of hell that made your life miserable because they thought you were being a whiny kid when you complained about pain or discomfort. And this one wasn't winning any points by withholding the good stuff.

"How are you feeling?"

"Tired." I said. 'Tired' was the universal term for like-shit-but-you-already-knew-that-and-I-don't-want-to-be-crude in hospitals. My tongue tasted gross and fuzzy, like I had dragged it against shag carpeting. I felt myself grimace.

"You want some ice chips?"

I nodded and she left and came back a couple minutes later with a foam cup full of ice cubes. She placed them on my table and I grabbed one and popped it in my mouth, letting the cold and wet relieve the fuzzy feeling. This definitely won her some points back. "How long have I been out?" I asked, my voice hoarse from the air.

"You are on day five in the ICU and it's Thursday." She said.

My eyebrows pulled together in concern. _Five days in the ICU?_ I felt my fingers rub the sheet that sat on top of me with anxiety. _That's a lot of school._

"You haven't missed much." The nurse shrugged as she finished with the machine. "The Patriots won. Trump said something stupid. One of the Kardashians said something stupider. Same old, same old."

I laughed, my lungs and the tube protesting. _A couple more points for you._ I continued eating ice chips and let the nurse take my vitals. I was still a little feverish, which made her frown. She was in the middle of doing my blood pressure, her pink stethoscope in her ears when she spoke again. "Your girlfriend is a sweetie."

I felt my face blaze bright at the mention of Bella. All the memories from that day came rushing back – the kiss in the truck, me asking her to be my girlfriend, the chest pain, the dancing. _Stupid._ My chest hurt all day. I knew it was pneumonia. I should've cancelled our plans and asked mom to take me to the hospital, instead of letting it spiral out of control like I did.

Now I've been in the ICU for days on end, plus the cost of the trip to Olympic and the Forks bill. _So expensive._ Guilt pressed hard onto my chest, making my heart beat fast, and a machine behind me squealed.

"Honey," The nurse turned. "What's wrong?"

I just looked at the nurse, tears flowing freely down my face. If I didn't go, though, I wouldn't have had my first kiss. I wouldn't have asked Bella to be my girlfriend. I wouldn't have listened to her tell me that she would be with me. All those moments were the best moments of my life. Moments I would remember and cherish forever. Tiny slices of heaven in the hell that was my universe.

"Is she here?" I whispered, hearing the machine calm down when I did.

The nurse shook her head. "Your mom basically kicked her out the door and ordered her to go back to school. She comes in the evenings, though."

I nodded, disappointed that I wasn't going to see her. But, it was probably for the best, anyway. I looked like a mess. And I was exhausted after that moment of emotional turmoil. "Mom and Dad?"

"I'll go get them for you." The nurse touched my arm gently and then left.

"Thanks." I said and closed my eyes, exhausting taking me again.

* * *

 _September 6, 2016_

I woke up, but didn't open my eyes right away. I knew that light was going to be on and I didn't want to irritate myself with it for a third time. Instead, I kept my eyes closed and let myself slowly pull out of unconsciousness into consciousness, crossing from the land of the sleep to the land of the waking gradually and gently.

I heard humming and a warm hand was gripping mine. It sounded like a Fall Out Boy song. Which meant it really could only be one person. _Bella._ I opened my eyes all the way, wincing with the light, and then found Bella sitting next to me.

She was sitting in the chair next to my bed, her backpack next to the chair and _Hitchhiker'_ s open in front of her. Besides some dark circles, she looked good, dressed like she had come from school. She found me staring at her and a smile broke out onto her face. "Hey."

"Hi." I managed, all the different pains taking hold. I couldn't figure out which one worse at the moment – my aching tailbone or the tube. I grimaced and hit the call button.

"Your parents are in the dining room." She said replaced her bookmark. "I told them I would stay with you up here while they get dinner."

I nodded in understanding and squeezed her fingers. "Thanks."

She stood up from her chair and pressed a kiss to my forehead. It was gentle and lovely and she smelled _amazing_. "I'm glad you're awake."

I groaned and rubbed my chest. "I'm not." I joked. "But, I'm feeling better than I did."

"They said they drained like two liters of fluid from your chest." She shook her head. "That's like a six pack of beer."

"A new personal record." I grinned. "Should I go for three next time?"

She lightly slapped me on my shoulder. "That's not funny." But, she fought her smile.

"It's a little funny." I pushed her hair back.

Her lips turned up and she giggled a little. "Yeah, maybe just a little."

"Was that the weirdest date you've ever had?"

Her eyes dropped and she swirled her finger on my arm. "Yes." She whispered. "And the scariest." She whispered.

"I'm sorry." My eyebrows pulled together in concern. "I promise that they don't all go like that."

"I was afraid I did something." She said. "That I was a little overeager in the truck or something."

I squeezed her hand. "No. It was all my fault." _It's only ever my fault._ I winced.

Two nurses came in and Bella moved to get out of their way. I was given pain meds and had my bag of saline and antibiotics replaced. They drained the Mountain Dew bottle of lung liquid which hurt because it jostled the line in my chest. By the time they were done, I was exhausted again.

"I'm just glad you're okay." She sat back down and held my hand in both of hers, staring at them clasped together for a long moment. "Edward, I have a confession to make."

I regarded her through a cloud of opiates and drowsiness. "What do you mean?"

She bit her lip. "I had Jacob tell me."

"Tell you what?" I garbled, my eyes sliding shut.

"Everything."

I opened my eyes, awake at that. I looked at her. "What do you mean?"

Her eyes were wide on me, full of ache and remorse. "I know about it all – AML, the lung mets, the fibrosis. When they almost pulled the plug. When you _asked_ them to pull the plug." She teared up, her fingers moving to flick them off her face. "The surgeries, the treatment options," Her eyes dropped. "The prognosis and life expectancy." She sucked in a breath. " _Everything_."

"Wow." I managed as I processed her words. I stared at the Hell light as I turned all of that over in my head. I was a completely open book now. Everything was on the table now. _Everything_. I felt a little nauseous. I mean, she was the first person outside my family who knew _everything_ now. "And you're still here?"

There was a long pause. A long pause that made my stomach flip. I imagined my two worlds - cancer and Bella coming together and exploding like a supernova right in front of my eyes, unable to coexist.

"Of course, Edward." She said. "I love you."

I looked at her, shock ringing through me. "You do?"

She looked at me like I had grown a second head. "Yes, of course."

She _loved_ me? Even though I was a medical nightmare? Even though I asked to die? Even though I kept secrets from my family? Even though I caused them so much pain? She loved me despite all of that?

The two separate worlds that I thought I had, were actually just one all along, I was just too blind to see it. Cancer and Bella in the universe that was me – rotating together, coexisting peacefully. I could have her even though there was cancer.

I suddenly felt so _freed._

I started to giggle. Like, full-on happy giggles. Like, laughing-gas giggles. Stoned-out-of-my-mind giggles. Crazy-person giggles. _She loves me._ Bella _loves_ me.

"Why are you laughing?" Her eyebrows shot up in confusion.

"Because," I said, tears streaming down my face. "You love me."

"I do." She reaffirmed, her fingers running through my hair and her smile widening on her face. "I really, truly do."

We both started to giggle. Laughing at nothing, ourselves. Whatever. It didn't matter. I could laugh for eternity with her. Because she was here, right here with me. And she _loved_ me.

She loved me.

The giggles morphed into coughing and pain. _Stupid lungs._ But, I smiled anyway and twisted myself, despite the draining tube not wanting go that way so I could face her better. I grabbed her hand. "I love you too." I said between coughs, tears streaming down my face. "So, so much, Bella. You had my heart the first I met you in Chemistry."

A smile broke out across her face. "I'm going to kiss you on the head because that tube on your face makes it impossible."

"It's okay," I said as I coughed into my fist. "You probably don't want to kiss me on my mouth, anyway. I haven't brushed my teeth in a week."

"Gross." She joked and kissed me on my forehead and then glided her lips to my temple. "I have a favor to ask."

"Anything."

Her eyebrows furrowed and her brown eyes went pained. "Don't…hide things from me or downplay them, okay? I love you and want to help you."

My smile faded. "You heard about freshman year." Not a question, a statement.

She nodded at me.

That year was a year plagued by mistakes that were going to haunt me the rest of my short life. But, that's what they were – mistakes. Mistakes that I promised not to make again. Not with myself or my family. And not with Bella either.

"I promise I'll be honest." I said and nodded, my hand tightening around hers. "Promise you'll stick with me? Even when the road gets a little bit bumpy?"

She kissed my nose. "After this?" She motioned around my ICU room. "It'll take an act of God to get rid of me."

"Good." I grinned back.

We stared into each other's eyes for a moment. Her's _shone_ – a golden backlight behind the lovely brown that radiated love and warmth and affection. I lifted my hand and ran my fingers down her cheek. "I love you." I whispered. The words were so natural to form - an instinct. Like breathing. Like _living_.

She smiled and pressed her forehead to mine. "You should get some sleep." She said, her eyes flashing with mischief. "You look like hell."

I grunted. I was exhausted, but I didn't want to leave this moment. I wanted to stay here forever, with her. She ran her fingers through my hair and I closed my eyes, letting sleep grip its talons into me. "Will you be here when I wake up?" I mumbled.

"I can't promise that." She said remorsefully. "The staff here are pushy and your mom is kind of scary."

I felt the corners of my mouth hitch up and I squeezed her hand again. "She's only like that within the walls of this hellbox, I _promise_."

"I'll take your word for it." She giggled. "I love you."

"I love you too." I breathed and then let sleep take me as I listened to Bella start to hum again.

* * *

 _September 11, 2016_

After one more day in the ICU, I was moved to a private room with my own bathroom where my family and Bella could come and go as they pleased without the ICU staff breathing down their necks. I was also put back on regular oxygen therapy, ticked up by one liter to help my crap lungs. Bella went to school during the day and then drove to Port Angeles at night to spend the evening with me so Mom and Dad could eat dinner in the cafeteria - giving them much needed breaks. And us alone time so we could cuddle, our arms carefully wrapped around each other as we talked about our days.

She had gathered my missed schoolwork, which I attempted to do when I felt okay enough to do it. Each time I awake feeling a little bit less like cruel science experiment, an incubator for foreign objects and a set a malfunctioning organs and more like a human.

On the third day in my private room, I finally saw Dr. Hot, my pulmonologist, while in state of consciousness in all of her Dr. Hot glory – model-pretty with blonde hair. Dr. Rosalie Hale was her actual name. She looked like she belonged in a Victoria's Secret catalog more than in scrubs and a lab coat, but she was one of the best pulmonologists on the West Coast.

She came in, sniffed around me for a couple of minutes, and announced that the drainage tube was good to come out and I could be discharged the next day if the tube extraction went well.

It didn't, of course.

A couple of hours later, a first-year resident came in to remove the tube. Mom insisted that Dr. Hale do it, given my long laundry list of lung problems, but he assured us he could 'do it in his sleep' and then promptly fucked it up – making it feel like I was being shanked with a carved prison toothbrush but in reverse. I jerked and the tube was forced where it wasn't supposed to go inside of me and caused my left lung – the worst of the pair – to collapse. I then had to spend another two days recovering from that traumatic experience.

On discharge day, I forced myself out of bed to shower in my private bathroom – sitting like an old person on the white shower seat – and washed my hair with one arm at a time because putting both of them above my head made me want to die.

Under the water, I inspected the blooms of bruising on my arms and my torso from the needle sticks and the manhandling and the equipment. I was pale, so it looked worse than it probably was, but it still seemed like I went a couple of rounds in the ring with Mike Tyson. I rolled my eyes and rubbed the crook of my elbow, where there were not one or two, but _five_ failed needle sticks. _Hospitals: we'll make you well, but we'll beat the shit out of you to get you there!_

I got dressed in my going-home clothes – an old La Push t-shirt and grey sweats - and then shuffled back to bed like a zombie raised from the dead to lay down after the arduous task of basic personal hygiene.

"Edward," I felt fingers in my hair as I was woken up from my post-shower nap. "Are you ready to go home?"

I opened my eyes to Bella, who had her dark hair twisted on top of her head in a loose bun and was wearing one of those plastic chokers and an elderly Stryper t-shirt. "So ready." I breathed, but didn't move right away, saving my energy for getting into the wheelchair. "I'm very excited for my own bed."

"I bet." She said. "And home-cooked meals?"

"My ukulele." I said. "And my keyboard."

"School."

I smiled. "Maybe not school."

"I changed my schedule, though." She said. "We have every class together now except for second period because you're in AP English and I didn't test high enough for that and sixth period because I have gym and _someone_ got a waiver to get himself out of all four years." She grinned.

I felt my eyebrows furrow. "You changed your schedule? For _me_?"

She shrugged and played with my fingers. "Not _entirely_ for you. I did test into AP classes; I just went with the easier ones at the beginning. But, I'm getting bored, so I thought I'd switch it up." She looked down at our laced hands. "And it helps that the love of my life is all of them."

"How did you swing that?"

"I went to the Principal Greene's office and said 'Edward Black just spent the last eleven days in the hospital and is going to need help carry his book bag around when he gets back to school. Lucky for you, I happen to be desperately in love with Edward Black and would carry his book bag into the pit of hell if he asked me to. I would wonder why he has a period in the pit of hell, but I would still follow him there,'" She shrugged and smiled at me. "'Can I get my classes switched?'"

"That's a compelling argument."

"He thought so." Bella nodded, her beautiful smile still on her face and a mischievous gleam in her eye.

Bella helped me up and into the wheelchair that the hospital makes you take to the entrance for liability reasons. "Lenny's happy to see you." Bella handed me the cannula and I affixed it to my face after disconnecting from the hospital's concentrator.

"I'm happy to see him, too." I said and picked him up by the handle and placed him on my footrests between my legs and then patted him like a family pet. _My trusty and forever loyal oxygen cart._

We both watched my mother pace laps around the room, making sure we weren't forgetting anything, her purse on her shoulders and the discharge packet in her hands.

"Mom," I said when I started to get dizzy from following her. "We're good. Let's _go_."

"Okay, okay." She said. She was so happy that I was leaving, she almost skipped over to me. "I think you're ready."

An orderly with the nametag of Joe came and pushed me to the front of the hospital and Bella held my hand on one side and my mother flipped through the discharge paperwork on the other. I waved to nurses that took care of me as we passed them in the hallway. "Thanks for staying, Edward." One of the funny one's said with a smile. "Now never see us again!"

"Now that you escaped the dungeon," Mom said as we descended from the third floor to the first in the elevator. "What should we get as your first meal?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. The blood of my enemies?"

"The souls of the damned?" Bella suggested above me.

"The virgin sacrifice's still-beating heart?"

We laughed so hard I could feel where the chest tube had been.

We ended up getting Burger King because I wasn't really hungry coming out the hospital doped up and exhausted. I got a milkshake and Bella got some fries. We enjoyed our fast food while sitting next to each other in the backseat of Mom's Buick, listening to the Killers as we drove home.

"So your brother," My mother started as she drove south to La Push. "Is grounded. School, football practice, games and that's it for a _month_." She looked at me in the rearview mirror. "So, this is a warning – if you try to cover for him I will ground your ass too. Bella is my witness."

"I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth." Bella smiled with her hand raised. "So help me God."

I grinned too, remembering all the past times I covered for him in the past by faking sick to distract Mom so he could sneak out. "What did he do this time?"

"He was caught by a teacher trying to disrobe that blonde girl he's been talking to in the parking lot during homecoming." My mother scowled.

I frowned. "We missed homecoming?"

"Yeah, it was last Friday." Bella's eyebrows furrowed when she noticed my expression, her hand shifting to lace with mine.

I shifted my gaze to the passing greenery as disappointment and gloom fell over me, feeling like a weight on my shoulders. The universe refused to stop, even when you were too sick to partake in it. It was a shitty part of my world.

"I heard it was pretty lame." Bella said. "They didn't even play any Arctic Monkeys."

I smiled gently at her joke and looped my finger through my tubing. "That does sound lame."

I looked at Bella – her long eyelashes that tangled together, her small, ski-tipped nose and her large, beautiful, brown eyes. My world may be random emergency room visits and lungs that can't function on their own and four failed attempts of needle sticks and chest tubes and accidental lung collapses and missing out on fun stuff.

 _But, it was Bella too now._ And as long as I had her I knew I would be okay.

* * *

 **I'm glad everyone is liking this fic! It's a lot softer and sweeter (read: less angsty) than I'm used to writing, so that's been a fun.**

 **Hales Bells - thanks for the long review you beautiful corn muffin. Edward's going to be fine...this time. Wait. Did you hear something? Look at the time! *stuffs breadsticks in purse and runs out door***


	13. Chapter 13

_Bella_

 _October 23, 2016_

"Come on Jake!" I yelled from the bleachers, my feet pounding in rhythm with the other hundred people that were sitting on the home side of the football field.

It was the fourth quarter, with seventeen seconds on the clock. Forks had a first down on the forty-yard line and it was thirty-six to thirty-nine. If Jake could get this touchdown, then Forks would win - putting us at number one for the region and championship hopefuls. The first time in twenty-seven years.

Edward laughed, the fog of his breath tangling with with mine. "Jake is eating up this attention." He said, his breathing coming in short and sharp because of the cold air. In an attempt to keep him warm, I had wrapped him up in a blanket and then stuffed his hands with my hands in the front pocket of my hoodie.

"I don't think 'cracking under pressure' is in his vocabulary." I agreed with my boyfriend of almost two months now and rubbed his fingers that were clasped in mine.

We watched them form up with Jake in the center, the number 18 on his jersey. He scanned around and yelled something at his players and they adjusted automatically. I shook my head. I don't know what it was, but Jake had this _tenacity_ when it came to leading people, a confidence that radiated off of him in waves.

The ball was snapped and everyone ceased the rhythmic pounding to watch. I glanced at the clock. _15…14…13…_ Jake rounded back and I watched him glance at Sandusky, his wide receiver on the left side. So did Beaver's defensive line and they moved to cover him.

I could see the brilliant white of Jake's cheesy grin under the spotlights of the field. _He had them eating out of the palm of his hands._ He faked a throw to Sandusky and then tucked the ball against his chest and cut through the opening the defensive line made to cover the wide receiver.

"He's going to do it!" Edward said, jerking with excitement, his fingers clenching around mine.

"He's running it in!" I yelled at the same time, my feet finding the metal of the bleachers again. _6…5…4…_

All of Forks watched as Jake nimbly maneuvered around the Beaver linebackers, who were too slow to lay a hand on Jake. He sprinted himself across the forty yards, propelling himself into the end zone. A safety that could keep up found him and threw himself in attempt to get his arms around Jake, but he twisted like he was doing a pirouette and hopped over the other boy.

"What a ham." Edward breathed as we both watched.

Jake leaped over the thick white line of the end zone at the same time the buzzer sounded. Edward and I's eyes both snapped to the scoreboard and we watched the 36 turn into a 42. _We won._

The stands erupted into cheering and we both shot up to our feet – Edward slower than I – and cheered with the Forks High school fight song that the band played every time we scored a touchdown. I stuck my fingers in my mouth and let out a sharp whistle.

Jake did a backflip in the end zone and Edward groaned next to me. "I cannot tell which is worse," He said as he gathered up the blanket that had fallen when he stood up. "Being Jake's brother because of he's a physical prodigy or being Jake's brother because he's _Jake_." He shook his head and smiled.

I reached up and tucked the clear tubing of Edward's cannula that sat behind his ears back underneath the red beanie he was wearing and then ran my fingers down his chiseled jawline. "You can do a bunch of stuff that he can't."

Edward's green eyes flashed at me. "Like what?"

I stepped closer so Edward could wrap his arm around me. "Like…keep a girlfriend?"

Edward snickered, my favorite smile on his face. "He _can_ keep a girlfriend." He rolled his eyes. "He just _chooses_ not to."

"That what he tells you."

"Bro!" Jake hit the chain-linked fence that separated the bleachers from the track that ran around the football field, his helmet off and his black eyes wide. "Did _you_ see that?"

"I'm pretty sure the entirety of the Olympic peninsula saw that." Edward stepped over the one step we took up and approached the fence, taking Lenny with him. I followed behind.

Jacob grinned, his large hands gripping the metal of the fence. "I didn't think that play would work." He shook his head and scanned around. "And _Leah_ fucking saw dude. I bet she's eating her heart out right fucking now!" His eyes danced and he literally vibrated with excitement, the chain-link clinking against its posts. "We gotta go celebrate! The team's going to Sully's with the cheerleaders, you guys should come with." He looked at the both of us.

Edward shook his head. "While sitting around with a bunch of your jock friends sounds like a _literal_ barrel of monkey…"

I snickered.

"…I think we're going to pass." Edward's eyes flashed down on me with a familiar mixture of lust and adoration and desire. My heart started to pound in my chest and my breathing hitched.

Jake's expressive face pouted. "Why can't you just _happy_ for me?"

"I'm super happy for you, dude." Edward defended, his hand automatically coming out to grab mine. "I have _plans_."

Jake looked back and forth and his wide grin stretched across his face in understanding. "Alright, you kids," He laughed and looked over his shoulder when he heard his name. "Y'all need a condom?"

We both blushed. Well, _I_ blushed. In the cold, Edward's face turned red, so he was in a constant state of blush. His eyes widened in horror at his brother, though. Jacob just burst into laughter at our embarrassed faces. "You're coming to the car wash tomorrow, right?"

"I still honestly can't believe that you guy decided that a car wash was an appropriate fundraiser in a state where it rains four fifths of the time." I said and shook my head.

Edward rolled his eyes. "Well, they do tackle each other to the ground for entertainment." He pointed out. "They're _not_ Einsteins."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that so you don't get splashed with a bucket of ice cold water at three in the morning." Jacob jammed a finger into Edward's face and then turned to me. "Bella rein in your man."

I shook my head with a smile. "I tried." I shrugged. "He's a loose cannon."

Jacob looked over his shoulder when one of his teammates called his name. "I gotta go." He said. "Fundraiser. Tomorrow. Noon." He said.

"We got it." Edward rolled his eyes again. "You've been talking about it for weeks."

"Three words." Jacob said and held up three fingers. "Cheerleaders, booty shorts, and water hoses."

"That's, like, five words." I said and laughed at him.

But, Jake had already turned and started running off to join his team that were gathered in a group on the field with a jump that ended up with him colliding shoulder pads.

"You ready?" Edward asked me.

I looked up at my boyfriend, the meaning of my existence, the blue to my sky. "Absolutely."

* * *

 _October 23, 2016_

"Wait," Edward breathed, his sweet breath swirling in front of my face. I froze automatically and I felt his fingers go to his nose to replace his cannula that had started slipping off and then he stripped off the thick hoodie to the long-sleeved t-shirt he was wearing underneath. "Okay," I felt him smile. "I'm good."

I kissed him, our mouths connecting like they were two magnets finding each other again. He slid his tongue in-between my teeth and I felt my body react in kind by sending my heart beat skyrocketing and a rush of blood through my body. I wanted him, all of him, and nothing but him. _Right now._ "I love you." I whispered.

He grunted. "I love you too."

His hands became more exploratory – running underneath my t-shirt to my bra, where he pulled down the material of the cup and started gently fingering one of my nipples. I groaned with desire.

I sat up, forcing Edward up as well and climbed on his lap, our mouths never disconnecting. My hand migrated out from underneath Edward's shirt, where I had taken to raking my fingernails against his bare chest and down to his fly where I could graze his erection through the material of his jeans.

He moaned and his body reacted against my touch, his eyes sparkling in the dim light and his breathing heavy. "Bella," He pulled away. "We can't."

I pouted like a petulant child. "Why _not_?"

"Because we're in Earl," I could see him smile in the dark.

 _Dammit. He was right._

I ran my fingers through his hair, my heart pounding hard in my chest. "Why don't we just run away?" I suggested. "Just get on the road and drive?"

He made a noise. "Tempting." He said, his hands moving to cup my thigh. He squeezed his fingers delicately and I groaned again, moving just slightly so my spread legs were angled over him. "But, your dad owns a gun and I'm pretty sure he would use it if I steal his only child away."

My hands moved all over his body, trying to grab as much of him as I could. "This isn't worth getting shot over?"

"It is." He said, kissing me. "But, I _do_ actually want to see you again and if you don't get me home soon, then we'll both be grounded."

I felt myself pout again.

We hadn't actually had sex yet.

We had gotten close on multiple occasions and I was very, _very_ eager to have sex with Edward. But, he always stopped before we actually did anything. We hadn't really _discussed_ it, but I knew that he was hesitant because he was still a virgin.

"Earl's a little awkward anyway." He explained further when he saw my disappointment.

He was also a hopeless romantic and probably had some sort of quixotic, idealistic idea in his head about how he was _supposed_ to lose his virginity – candles, rose petals, mood music, etc.

"You're probably right." I pressed my face to his shoulder and closed my eyes, letting my heart beat slow down to normal rhythms. I was okay with waiting for when he was ready _._ I was okay as long as I was with me and I had his pulse in my fingertips and his breath in my ear. I was okay as long as I knew that he was alive, _here_ with me. _Not just okay._ _Perfect_. I thought as I breathed in his unique, beautiful, perfectly Edward scent.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked, his hand running down my back as he held me.

"How much I love you." I said and squeezed my eyes shut and my body tighter against his.

 _It's not going to last forever._

There was a voice – a niggling, insidious voice in the back of my mind that felt like a three or four-inch roof nail being jammed into the meat of my brain that would remind me of my conversation I had over a month ago now with Jacob. The conversation that would haunt my dreams. The conversation that would take me back to the Forks Hospital where I watched them wheel him back behind the double doors of the emergency room, blue and unconscious.

 _Five, maybe six good years_ is what Jacob said when I asked about Edward's life expectancy in that tiny waiting room in Olympic. _Every time he gets sick like this, it makes his lungs work that much harder. One of these days, his lungs just won't be able to do their jobs_. Jacob's eyes had dropped and his words turned into a whisper. _Of course, that's if the cancer doesn't take him first._

I ground my teeth together. I had found love. Not the regular kind of love where you _say_ you love each other but then split up like my parents did. No. This was the profound, life-changing kind of love. The kind of love where you find yourself asking what you did with yourself before you found it. The kind of love that tears through the sky like a flash of lightning or a comet, illuminating all the dark spots. The kind of love you watch in romantic movies. The unbreakable kind of love. The 'as long as we both shall live' kind of love.

And mine had an expiration date.

And this fact pressed on my chest like a million weights had been dropped on it, the voice in the back of my head repeating it like an echo over and over in my head like someone screamed it down the Grand Canyon. _I can't lose Edward._ I would pray to whatever higher power was out there. _Please don't take him away from._

"Are you okay?" He asked, his hand rubbing circles on my back as he listened to my breathing hitch.

I did not tell Edward about my fears. I had decided early on that my fear of time was not his burden to bear. And I decided that if this short, _perfect_ love was what I got out of this crappy life, then I would capitalize on each day, moment, second. So, I told the voice to stick it up its ass, prayed that medical science would catch up to Edward's failing body, and loved as hard as I fucking could. Because that's all I _could_ do.

"I'm perfect." I breathed against his skin, my fingers winding into his hair. _Perfect._

* * *

 _October 24, 2016_

I was sipping coffee already dressed in my old jeans and Tombstone, Arizona t-shirt and texting Edward good morning as I leaned over the counter, when Charlie stomped down the stairs in his fishing gear.

"Hey, Bells?"

"Yes, Dad?" I said without taking my eyes off my cell phone.

"Hank Newton - you know the Newtons, right?"

"I do." I said, fighting to keep my expression neutral and not externally cringe.

"Well, Hank and I are going up to Rainier next weekend to hunt elk." Charlie said, his eyebrows furrowing. "Will you be okay to stay here by yourself?"

My eyes snapped up to meet his, my mind starting turning wildly. _I could have Edward over._ My hopeless romantic boyfriend can come over here for a date, cuddling on the couch, Netflix, maybe something that could lead to…

"No boys allowed." He said, taking me right out of my fantasy.

" _Dad_ ," I groaned. "Who do you think I am?"

"A teenaged girl." He wagged his finger at me and sat down to put on his boots.

 _He had a point._ I felt my lips twist into a lopsided pout. "Edward's more respectable than that." I said.

"I know he is." Charlie's eyes glimmered as he thought about his best friend's parenting skills. When I had announced to Charlie that Edward and I were official he was ecstatic and spent the 'meet the parents' dinner we had together joking with Billy about being in-laws to each other. "And that's why I'm leaving you in the first place." He said. "Because I trust that you can follow my rules _."_

I rolled my eyes and put my face on my fist. "Yeah, okay. I'm still going to Lauren Mallory's Halloween party, though."

"That's fine." He finished with his boots and stood up, picking up his keys and his wallet and stuffing them deep into the pockets of his dungarees. He looked up at me. "I don't have to lecture you on drinking and driving, right?"

" _No, Dad_." I groaned again.

"Good." He said, put on his fishing hat, and turned for the door. "See you later."

"Have fun." I called.

I left shortly after Charlie did and drove down to Forks High School. Large signs advertising the Forks High football team with the Spartan logo were all over the place. The car wash was in full swing – most of the cheerleaders in shorts even though it was like fifty-five degrees outside.

I glanced up at the sky as I got out of Earl. _At least it's sunny._

I found Edward manning the cash box as he sat on the lowered bed of Coach Clapp's white pickup, his feet swinging freely and Lenny parked on the asphalt below him. "Hey," He greeted, his smile lighting up his face when he saw me.

"Hey," I said and hopped up on the truck bed with him. "They have you on money duty?"

"Well," He said, his grin widening. "I was helping on the hose, but they needed someone who could make change in their head, so Coach moved me here."

"Out of a varsity cheerleading squad and a whole football team, no one can do arithmetic in their head?" I asked incredulously.

Edward's grin widened. "I did say they weren't Einsteins."

I laced my fingers with Edward's and pressed my face against his shoulder. I felt so much better being next to him, feeling his body heat radiate onto me and his fingers flex against mine. All my empty spots suddenly felt filled. I felt _whole._

I watched the production line of other kids as they cleaned cars, chatting up the owners through the driver's side window and generally goofing around like only high schoolers could. I sighed. I did volunteer to _work_ at the car wash. I guessed I should go actually work, even though I didn't want to disconnect with Edward. "I guess I'll go see where I'm needed." I grumbled and hopped down.

"I'll be here." Edward said as he exchanged a five-dollar bill for ones out of the cash box to a blonde cheerleader with sparkly ribbons in her hair.

"Bella! My sister from another mister." Jacob greeted, a squishy, yellow sponge in his hand. "I'm glad you came to support the Forks High Spartan football team."

"Yes, that's _exactly_ why I'm here." I joked and rolled my eyes.

Over the last month from doing two-a-day workouts five days a week, Jacob had grown significantly in girth. The t-shirt he decided to wear today did not hide this fact as his biceps and pectorals protested against the cotton material. He was basically the Native American version of Jason Momoa and every pair of ovaries within a fifty-mile radius did not fail to take notice.

I squinted up at him. "What can I do?"

He threw me a sponge and the suds landed on my old jeans that I had covered in My Chemical Romance lyrics with permanent marker. "You want to do rims?"

I nodded. "I think I can handle that."

I grabbed an unclaimed bucket of soapy water and squatted next to an old Chevy Celebrity and started cleaning the grime from the hubcaps, knowing my efforts were in vain as soon as the rain started up again. In Washington, the dirt was very dark and in a constant state of mud, whereas Arizona dirt was tan and dusted over everything like a fine film. _What I would give to have Arizona dirt again._ I smiled at myself for _wishing_ for Arizona dirt.

While I cleaned the rim, I also thought about Edward. And Charlie's _no boys_ rule while he was going to be gone next weekend. I _could_ have him over and then _not_ tell Charlie. But, that would be lying. I didn't like to lie. I frowned.

 _You lie to Edward._

 _Fuck off, voice_. I thought as it itched around in my mind. I didn't _lie_ to Edward. I just _chose_ to keep my fears about his fallibility to myself. If he asked me "Bella, are you afraid of me dying?" I would have to say "yes" and that wouldn't be lying. I felt my eyebrows pull together as knots formed in my stomach. _I'm desperately afraid of you dying._

"Hey Bella," A voice said way too close to my ear.

I jumped, startled out of my thoughts and dropped the sponge I was using onto the asphalt. I straightened up and turned around to the ice blue eyes of Mike Newton.

"Mike," I groaned, automatically annoyed at his presence. "What do you _want_?"

Mike Newton had turned into a proverbial thorn in my side since Edward and I had made our relationship at school public, which he took as a personal affront to his dignity. I couldn't tell if it was because I was the only person who didn't like his party-hard, frat-boy wannabe image, the only girl in Forks High who wasn't head-over-heels love with Jacob, or because I chose the boy with the oxygen tank instead of him. It was probably a mixture of all three.

"I wanted to see if you wanted some help, baby." His stupid smile slid up his face and he held up his own sponge.

"I don't need help." I looked at his Forks football shirt. I had forgotten he played varsity. Maybe I could ask Jacob to break his nose in an unfortunate practice accident or something.

"I know." He said. "But your boyfriend just sitting on his ass over there." He threw a thumb behind him. "I thought you might want to the company, baby."

"If you call me baby one more time," I bent over and picked up the sponge I dropped and threw it in the bucket and then picked up the handle. "I _will_ punch you in the face." Not a threat, a promise.

"You're so feisty." His nose wrinkled and he followed me around to the other side of the car, squatting in front of the back tire, while I got the front one. "I like it."

I groaned as I quickly washed the rim. "Can't you just go sexually harass someone else, Mike?"

"Why would I want to do that?" He joked. "You're the most charming girl in this stupid school."

"I'm very flattered." I said and moved to the next car – an older Cadillac Escalade. "Now go _away_."

I felt cold fingers on my wrist and then I was jerked to a halt and spun around, my back up against the large SUV and Mike's eyes inches from mine. Both of his hands came up and pressed against the car on either side of me, caging me in a Mike Newton prison.

I automatically felt the heat rise to my face and I pressed my hands against his chest and tried to push him away. "This isn't fucking _funny_ , Mike." I snapped. "My _boyfriend_ is right over there."

"What's he going to do?" Mike's eyes flashed. "Hit me with his oxygen tank?" He chuckled and muttered "pussy" under his breath.

The heat in my face doubled in temperature at the mention of Edward and I grabbed his arm and tried to wrenched it down to escape. "Go back to your midget porn and get the fuck away from me!"

"Is everything alright over here?" Jacob rounded the back end of the Escalade, his black eyes taking everything in – Mike's stupid grin, the way he had me pinned up against this atrociously large car, my maroon, pissed off face.

Mike's arms dropped automatically at the sight of Jacob – not wanting to pick a fight with the largest guy in school - his blue eyes flashing at me and the corners of his mouth turned up like _I_ did something wrong. "Just fine, _Chief_." Mike's face twisted at that word. "Just getting these cars taken care of." He brushed Jacob's shoulder on his way out.

Jacob watched him leave and then turned to me. "Are you okay? Do you, like, want me to hose him down or something?"

 _Dragging him from behind Coach Clapp's truck might be an option._ I thought sardonically. "No," I shook my head. "I think I insulted him. That's painful enough."

"How?"

I grinned at the thought of Edward, my smile large and stupid and cheesy every time his face popped into my mind. "By falling in love with your brother."

* * *

 _October 31, 2016_

"Bella!" Jacob said as he opened the front door of the Black household. He stepped aside to let me in. "Who are you supposed to be?"

"A cat." I pointed to the $5 Dollar General headband I was wearing that had black, fuzzy cat ears attached to them. My 'costume' was a black Wednesday Addams-esque dress that I picked up from a St. Vincent De Paul and my well-loved combat boots. Basically, a normal outfit for me, save the cat ears.

I looked at him. He looked like he was dressed the same too – a white shirt, black jeans and a black leather jacket – the only different was his hair was styled into a pompadour-type thing with a lot of gel and he was wearing white socks with black shoes instead of his riding boots.

"Can you guess who I am?" He turned around, revealing a "T" and a sparrow on the back of his leather jacket and then pulled out a comb and dramatically combed his hair back.

"Danny Zuko from _Grease_?"

"Of course." He said. "Only the _best_ movie."

"I did not peg you as a fan of musicals." I said.

"Only when they involve hot cars and Olivia Newton-John in leather pants." Edward said as he emerged from the hallway, dragging Lenny behind him. He was wearing black jeans and t-shirt that looked like C-3PO's torso under his favorite blue cardigan. The tank sitting in Lenny was also dressed up as R2D2.

"You're so cute." I said and reached up on my toes to kiss Edward, who met my lips with his own. "I love what you did to Lenny."

"And you're beautiful." He said, parking Lenny next to his leg and pulling me in by the waist.

"And we're all late," Jacob said as he pulled out his cell phone. "So we better hurry."

"Wait!" Mrs. Black shrieked, her cell phone in her hand and her black hair streaming behind her as she ran in from the back of the house. "I need pictures!"

Edward and Jacob groaned simultaneously, their face reflections of each other as their mom arranged us to fit in her shot. I just laughed, a quiet whisper of my own melancholy tinging the laughter. My own mother called me this morning to wish me a happy Hallow's Eve and to tell me about how she was going to the rough parts of town and handing out full-sized candy bars out of the back of her Honda to the less fortunate kids. I advised her to watch for cops because she probably looked like she was dealing drugs. _I miss Renee._

"I want one of just the happy couple." Mrs. Black said and Jacob hurled himself out of the shot, eager to get out from under his mom's attention.

Edward and I pressed in close, my arms looping around his torso and his arms looping around my shoulders. "I love you." He whispered as he smiled for the camera.

The brief moment of sadness was replaced with warmth at Edward's words. Warmth like the sunshine of a clear, spring afternoon. Warmth hot mug of coffee in cold fingers. Warmth that filled your chest and prickled your skin with happy goosebumps.

"I love you too." I whispered back, digging my face into his chest so I could listen to his heart beat.

* * *

 _October 31, 2016_

We arrived at the party and I was quickly reminded why I don't attend high school parties.

First of all, the entirety of Forks' junior and senior classes was at Lauren Mallory's house tonight. They milled in groups outside and in, making walking without bumping into people an impossible task. And when you did inevitably run into someone, you got whatever drink that was in their red Solo cup sloshed on you, or their vape pen/joint exhaled on you, making you smell like a combination of Hi-C and Coors Lite and bad marijuana.

Secondly, the music – always some generic Rihanna or Bieber song – was way too loud and the lights were turned down way too low, making talking arduous.

Thirdly, Lauren's house was a production-line, Tuscan-style McMansion that had a lot of random hallways and rooms and blind corners where there was inescapably some couple wedged hoovering the the lips off of each other like no one was watching.

Fourthly, everyone was drunk as only teenagers could get, acting like animals more than humans. It would be a good case study for human behavior while intoxicated as I watched all the different stages and levels and types of drunkenness happen right before my eyes.

"I'm ready to go." I announced after five minutes of watching everyone make fools out of themselves in what I assumed was some sort of main room. Edward and I had found an empty corner with a lamp table. I stepped aside to let a girl dressed in a leotard and tiger ears pass me to get to the front door.

Edward ducked as someone threw a Halloween prop knife, his hand clenching around mine and Lenny tight against his leg. "I am in agreement." He said, his green eyes wide as he looked around. "Why'd we come here again?"

"To have _fun_." Jacob said and handed each of us a cup of green liquid before sucking down his own cup in two gulps. " _Fun_." He dragged the word out.

"I can't have this." Edward said after sniffing the contents of his cup. He placed it on the accent table he was standing next to. "I can't have alcohol."

"Who says?" Jacob said.

"Uh, my pharmacist?" Edward looked at Jacob incredulously.

"Bella," Jacob turned to me and motioned to my drink, staring at me with expectant eyes.

I shook my head and started to place it on the table next to Edward's. "Someone has to drive home."

Jacob threw his head back, groaned, picked up my drink and handed it back to me. "One isn't going to kill you." He said. "There's barely any alcohol in it, anyway."

I made a face and took a sip. It tasted like Hi-C and Midori and some sort of flavored vodka. It wasn't bad, actually. Sweet. _Okay, one drink._ I resigned and took another sip.

Edward shoved Jacob's shoulder, which didn't budge at all. "Go find Lauren. I know you want to ditch us as soon as possible, anyway."

Jacob grinned, his eyes flashing. "You know," He leaned down like he was going to tell us a secret. "There's a lot of empty bedrooms in this house."

"Go!" Edward said, his face blushing.

We both watched Jacob pull out his comb, dramatically brush his hair and then walk off towards the back of the house, laughing the whole time.

Edward glanced at the dance floor where everyone was jumping up and down to a club song. I pressed in close to him to let a group of people by, holding my cup up so it didn't spill. He looked down at me. "There's probably beer pong going on somewhere." He suggested.

"You want to play beer pong?" I asked.

"I want to get out of this room."

I nodded at that. "Beer pong it is, then."

We found a den of some sort in the back of the house with a couch and a ping pong table that had an abandoned game strewn over the surface. This room was not as populated as the main one – or as loud - and I was finally able to take a breath without feeling like I was drowning under a wave of hot, sweaty bodies.

Edward picked up a ping pong ball and threw it. It bounced once on his side and deftly landed in an opposing cup.

"Wow." I said as I watched him. "For a person that doesn't drink, you're pretty good."

"It's just math." He said and picked up another ping pong and threw that one. It landed in the same cup. "And physics."

"You want to play?" A voice said and we both turned to Mike Newton. _A vampire._ I thought as I looked at his costume of a black cape and a dribble of blood painted with stage makeup next to his lip. A soul-sucking leech. _How appropriate._

"I don't drink." Edward said and ping-ponged another ball into a cup.

"I'll drink yours." I volunteered, a slightly sadistic, competitive streak looping through me. I really just wanted to see Edward beat Mike. I wanted to see Mike's face when the person he talked so poorly about finally beat him. _Maybe he'll finally leave me alone then._

"Bella," Edward's eyebrows furrowed. "I don't want you to get drunk."

"There'll only be a little beer in each cup." Mike assured, his eyes flashing and his chest puffing as he sized up his opponent. "It'll be fine."

Edward chewed on his lip and looked at me and then looked at Mike, indecision drawn all over his face.

"It'll be fine." I echoed, my hand finding his arm. _Please beat him._

"I'll go grab the drinks." Mike turned around and left.

Edward and I started to clear the ping pong table of the previous game and Mike came back with a stack of Solo cups and two larger glasses full to the brim with beer. He set the solo cups down in a pyramid shape and pour a little bit of the glass of beer in all of them. He repeated the same thing on Edward's side with the other glass.

"Ladies first." Mike motioned to Edward.

Edward picked up the ping pong ball on his side and threw it. It bounced once against the rim of one of Mike's cups and then settled into one of them. Mike fished the ball out and then gulped the beer down.

"So, why no booze for dear Eddy?" Mike said and then threw his ping pong ball. It arced up and landed in the middle cup with a soft splash.

Edward extracted the ball and handed the cup to me, which I dutifully downed. _Budweiser._ I wrinkled my nose. _Gross._ "Don't call me that." Edward said firmly. "My name is Edward."

"That didn't answer my question." Mike's eyes flashed as they followed the ball into another cup.

"I can't have alcohol." Edward said as the ball landed in another cup. I picked this one up myself and handed the ball off.

"Because of your old-man syndrome or whatever?" Mike asked. "What is it, anyway? You hit the menthols way too hard?" Mike snorted at his own joke.

Edward's jaw flexed and he threw the ball. "Your mother obviously smoked while she was pregnant with you." He paused as he watched the ball land in a cup. "Given that the last of your brain cells came up with that joke."

"Touchy." Mike grinned and drank his beer, the ball in his fingers. "I bet you just wear it to get out of gym."

"Just play." Edward snapped.

They did – throwing the ball back and forth. They missed a couple, but were pretty evenly matched and getting more in than out. A cup never left my hand, it felt like. It became harder to drink, the beer going flat and skunky. I found myself chasing it with the green stuff that Jacob gave me. The mixture caused me

"So, Edward." Mike started. They were down to two cups each. "I propose we make this interesting."

Edward rolled his eyes. He had grown tired of Mike's attempt at banter at Edward's expense and the fact that Mike was pretty good at this. I could see his emerald eyes harden with competitiveness and annoyance. He wanted to beat Mike. Beat him and rub his nose in it. Just like I did. "How?"

"Whoever wins," Mike's eyes flashed to me. They swam in his head with mild intoxication. "Gets to kiss Bella."

Edward's lopsided grin found its way on his face. "I already can do that." He demonstrated by leaning over and planting one on me, his hand cupping my face and his lips moving gently with mine. My heartbeat sped up with kiss and the already wobbly room spun a little faster.

"I don't want to kiss you, Mike." I said.

Mike's face twisted with a scowl, his face red with intoxication. "Fine." He said. "If I win, you do twenty jumping jacks without the tank."

"No!" I garbled, really feeling the beer in me and turned to Edward. "Don't hurt yourself." I was sloshy and the sconces on the walls felt like they were turned up to the highest setting, making everything glow with a golden hue. I turned to Mike. "Don't do this."

"Fine, then kiss me."

" _No_."

Edward ignored me. "I'll do the jumping jacks. And I win you never talk, look, or breathe in Bella's general direction again."

Mike chin tipped up. "Fine."

Mike picked up the ping pong ball and threw it. It missed and Edward caught it before it hit the floor, throwing it back. It landed in Mike's cup. He grunted, fished it out and drank his beer.

"You're down to one." Edward grinned.

"Shut up oxygen boy." Mike said and threw the ball back.

I didn't see where it went though. Everything started to turn blobby and the room started to spin. _Too fast._ I thought, feeling like I was going to be sick. "I'm gonna find a bathroom." I announced.

"Bella, are you okay?" Edward said.

"Yeah," I said, moving towards the door, tripping over my own feet. "I'm fine."

I stumbled down the hallway. Everything started to wobble and flex like I was in some absurd up funhouse of bent mirrors. The muted colors of Lauren's house blended together indiscernibly and I felt like the floor was tilting. _What was in those drinks?_ I pressed my hand to my head. I knew beer before liquor, never sicker but I don't think it was supposed to be like this.

I somehow got up a flight of carpeted stairs and managed to find a powder room of some sort, my hand coming out to click on the light and then the other to try and hold myself up. It was in vain, I ended up tipping over onto the floor. My limbs felt like they were disconnected from my body, like they had grown their own brains and were trying to move away from me.

I laid on the floor and watched the popcorn ceiling swirl with colors – the muted blue of the walls blending in with the white and turning it splotchy. The light radiating off of the bulb swirled with reds and greens. _This isn't right._ A part of my brain said. _You aren't drunk. This is something more._

 _Edward._ I tried to find my mouth, but I couldn't figure out how to connect my brain with the rest of me. I could feel myself – the tears on my face, my churning stomach, the panic in my chest - but in the abstract. I was aware they were happening, but I couldn't actually _feel_ them. _Edward._

I felt hands grip my forearms and the ceiling all of a sudden turned into the wall. I vaguely registered a towel bar with towels that were monogrammed with an M on the front. _Edward._ I didn't know if I was actually vocalizing or if it was just in my head. _Edward, I think I've been roofied._

I was turned around and instead of two emeralds shining with concern, I was met with two hollow circles of ice, a gleam of evil in them.

* * *

 **So, I feel like this chapter went from 0 to 60 real quick lol OH WELL YOU BOARDED THIS CRAZY TRAIN also review kthxloveubye**

 **Siobhan Whitlock - I don't want to give anything away, but I do want to let you know we may see some more familiar faces. Eventually? IDK. You didn't hear it from me.**

 **edaygin - I love that you scream at me in all caps in the reviews. I love your exuberance. Please don't stop as each all-caps review literally adds 24 minutes to my lifespan.**


	14. Chapter 14

**trigger warning: some almost rape stuff**

* * *

 _Edward_

 _October 31, 2016_

"I'm gonna find a bathroom." Bella said quietly from my side, her words slurring together. I looked down at her as her feet started to move faster with the rest of her body, her head rocking back and forth and her eyes wide and glassy. _She doesn't look too good._

"Bella," I said, my hand reaching to stop her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," She garbled as her feet propelled her forward. She slammed her hip on the corner of the ping pong table, making everything jostle. "I'm fine." She continued onward.

She drank too much. My stomach tied into knots. I should've stopped her. I should've stopped the game awhile. I wished we never gone out. We could've been cuddling on the couch watching a scary movie or something right now.

 _I should follow her._ I thought and turned to grab the handle of Lenny. I needed to make sure she was okay, make sure she drank some water.

"I'll get her." Mike volunteered.

"No," I snapped, resentment and irritation flaming in my chest like a crackling bonfire. "You've done _plenty_ tonight."

But, he was already out the door, his black costume cape fluttering behind him. I followed as quickly as I could, dragging Lenny behind me. I chased his cape around Lauren's gigantic maze of a house. We went down a back hallway and I watched him turn a corner. I rounded the same corner and came face-to-face with a flight of stairs.

 _Dammit._ I scowled and gripped the handle of Lenny with one hand and the handle bar of the stairs with the other. Stairs were an invention of the devil to torture my already crap lungs. I usually just avoided them whenever possible.

 _Bella's up there._ I thought, my eyebrows furrowing. _I have to make sure she's okay._ A flash of panic shot through me like a lightning bolt, my heart beat thrumming hard in my chest. _And she's up there with Mike Newton._

I inhaled through my nose, stepped up the first step, exhaled, lifted Lenny to join me, and then inhaled to do it all over again. I was halfway up when I had to stop, moving too fast and not pausing long enough between steps. My tight chest felt tighter, the space for my lungs to fit growing smaller and smaller until they exploded out of me.

Mike's skeezy, douchebag face kept me going though. I didn't want him anywhere near Bella. He made my skin crawl with his predatory gaze. He looked like he wanted to _eat_ her.

By the time I got up to the top, my vision was going hazy around the edges and I was gasping air like I had been drowning. I fished my rescue inhaler of albuterol out of the front pocket of my jeans and sucked on it as I looked around the hallway of Lauren's second floor, trying to figure out which door led to a bathroom.

"Bella," I heard Mike say and moved towards it – a door at the end to the left. The lights were off, but the door was cracked and I pushed myself in.

I froze at the sight in front of me, horror and disgust and panic and rage washing over me like I was standing in a tsunami. It stole my breath away and stopped my heart. But, I couldn't move.

Bella laid on a bed, her jaw opened and slack and her eyes closed. Her dress had been pushed all the way up her pale thighs and her panties – these black lacy things – were laid like a small puddle on ground next to Mike's feet.

Mike, himself was standing over her, his hands on his belt as he undid it. "You're so _fucking_ nasty." He whispered into the dark, the hand not on his belt gripping one of Bella's thighs. "I'm going to fuck you raw."

I realized what was happening as Mike wrenched Bella's legs open.

 _He's going to rape Bella._

I felt myself begin to shake as anger pulsed through in waves. I absolutely _vibrated_ with every surge, my skin felt like it was on fire and my vision tinged red. "What the _fuck_?" I growled and stepped into the room.

Mike stiffened and turned towards me, his belt buckle undone. His eyes were swimming and he teetered, obviously intoxicated. "Dude-,"

He didn't get the rest of his sentence out. I didn't let him. My fist connected with his teeth before he could get another word through them. I felt my knuckles crunch against his face as I threw my whole weight into the punch, yanking Lenny down by the tubing in the process.

It threw Mike off balance and he crashed into a dresser. I followed, dragging an unwilling Lenny with me. I grabbed the collar of Mike's shirt and threw him to the ground, my fist coming down hard on his face. "Don't you fucking touch her." I growled as I smashed his nose in.

Mike's momentary shock wore off and even in his inebriated state, he managed to get a punch in, which I took to my chest. I gasped with it, fire radiating in my chest. "Fucking oxygen boy." He garbled and started to retaliate, one hand finding my shirt the other finding the cannula, which he jerked off of my face.

With a shove, I was on the ground and he wound back his fist for a punch, a small smile pitching his lips ups. "I've been looking forward to this." Mike said.

My hand reached around for my cannula as my lungs protested loudly with the weight of a person on top of me and no supplemental oxygen, my breaths coming in short and gasping as I couldn't find enough air. Pain blasted up the left side of my chest, radiating into my shoulder. _Get off of me._ I thought. _Bastard._

There was a streak and all of a sudden Mike was thrown back off of me and Jacob's face replaced where Mike's was. "You okay?"

I nodded and breathed, my fingers finally wrapping around the tube. "He," Inhale. "roofied," inhale "Bella."

Jacob's eyes darted to Bella as he connected the dots. His eyes flashed and his face twisted with anger. "Go help Bella." He said. "I got Mike."

I affixed the tubing to my nostrils and looped it back over my ears before scrambling to my feet and righting Lenny back on his wheels with me.

I moved to Bella, picking up her panties and sliding them back on. I righted her dress that that Mike pushed up and then leaned over to make sure she was still breathing, since she was so still. She was. _Thank God._ I slipped my arm around her shoulders and lifted her up, gathering her against me.

"So, Mike." Jacob unkindly shoved him to his feet. "You know what we do to rapists on this team, right?"

"I don't know, _Chief_." Mike garbled, his fists clenched.

Jacob pushed Mike towards the door. "Well you're going to find out. Right _fucking_ now."

They both left, leaving Bella and I alone in this random guest bedroom of Laurens'. The adrenaline from earlier wore off and the gravity of the situation started to take hold. _I was almost too late._ Tears filled my eyes as panic twisted up my stomach into tight knots as I imagined what would've happened if I took two extra minutes on the stairs or couldn't find the room right away or went as slow as my lungs wants me to. _I'm going to fuck you raw._ Mike's sour, horrible words ricocheted in my head and my arms clenched tighter around Bella.

"Bella, you're safe now." I whispered as I ran my hand down her face and pressed my lips to her forehead. "I'm right here, okay? I'm sorry I was too slow to get to you first. I'm so sorry."

She grunted, her eyelids fluttering open. Her normal, shiny brown eyes were flat and glazed. "Edward." She whispered.

"I'm right here." I breathed. "I'm sorry I let this happen."

"Edward." She whispered again and picked up her head, her eyes focusing momentarily on me, tears filling them. "I want to go home." She breathed. "I want to go home."

"Alright," I nodded. "Let's take you home. Can you stand?"

She looked like she was processing my words, her eyebrows furrowing. "Stand?" She repeated and then moved robotically like she had been ordered to. I helped with my arms around her, holding up most of her weight as she got to her feet.

"Edward," She breathed as she gripped on my shirt teetering around like she was dizzy and tears flooding down her face. "I think I've been drugged."

I held her up, the knots in my stomach making it hard to breathe. "I know." _I'm so sorry._

"Don't leave me." She said, her voice small and scared.

"I won't, okay?" I rubbed her arm as I pulled her in close. "I'll be right here."

"Don't leave me." She repeated, her eyes sliding shut as she rested her head on my chest. "I _need_ you."

* * *

 _October 31, 2016_

I managed, somehow, to get Bella and Lenny downstairs. Bella hung on me like I was a life raft and she was afraid to let go, her fingers clenching my sweater and her jaw set with focus. I held Lenny and he _ka-klunked_ down the stairs with us as I coached and encouraged her through each step, my eyes never leaving her glassy ones.

"I need to sit." She announced once we got to the bottom and then promptly tipped over and smashed against the wall, sliding down to find the step. I gripped her arm so that she didn't accidently tip forward.

"Are you okay?" I asked, but her eyes slid shut and she just leaned over, trusting my shoulder would be there to catch her.

"Edward!" Jacob called from somewhere in the house.

"I'm here." I said as I circled my arms protectively around Bella, I rubbed m

"Are you okay?" Jacob rounded the corner, his body smashing into a wall. His wide, black eyes took us both in as we sat on the stairs. "Is Bella okay?"

"Bella needs to get home." I said and looked at my hand that I punched Mike Newton's face with, a bruise blooming over three out of my four knuckles. "I'm fine, otherwise."

"I can drive." Jacob said. "I had one drink and then stuck to water the rest of the night since Lauren was getting trashed."

"Will you carry Bella? I don't think she can stand."

Jake stepped forward and slid an arm under Bella's shoulders and then another under her knees and lifted her up like she weighed nothing. I fixed her skirt and followed Jacob through Lauren's house out into the chilly air. The cold socked me in the stomach, and I could feel where Mike punched me in the chest as I focused on inhaling in through my nose and out of my mouth.

"I need to stay with her." I said from the backseat of Jake's car as we drove towards Bella's house, her head on my lap and her fingers laced with mine. Out of my peripherals, I could see the streetlights of Forks proper, but I kept my eyes on Bella's face. "I can't leave her tonight."

Jake nodded solemnly, his gaze meeting mine in the rearview mirror. "What do you need?"

I glanced at Lenny's meter. I was at half, so about another four hours. "Two tanks, some clothes, my meds and my mask." I glanced at Bella. "And for you to cover for me with Mom because she'll be pissed when I don't come home."

"I got you, Bro."

"Thanks Jake."

We pulled up to the Swan residence and Jake dutifully got Bella out of of the car. I walked ahead of him and opened the door with the house key I pickpocketed out of Bella's jacket and turned on the lights of her house so Jake could see where she was going.

"Where's Charlie?" Jake asked as he got Bella in, her head resting against his shoulder.

"Hunting." I said. "With Mike Newton's dad."

Jake just shook his head as he turned for the stairway. "If they only knew."

Bella's eyes fluttered open suddenly. "Sick." Bella slurred. "I'm gonna be sick."

Jacob double-timed his steps, taking the stairs two at a time so Bella wouldn't ruin his leather jacket.

"Put her in the tub." I gasped as I followed as quickly as my shitty lungs would allow up the stairs, Lenny clunking behind me as I let his wheels bounce against the wood with each step. I paused halfway again to catch my breath and watched Jacob emerge from the bathroom sans Bella. He quickly descended the stairs, stopping at the same one I was parked at.

I looked at him, really looked at him for what felt like the first time that evening. The panic and horror and shock of the evening washed over me again, flipping my stomach and I felt myself choke up as I tried to simultaneously pull in air. "Jacob." I said, the enormity of the evening hitting me like a wrecking ball. My hands flew to my forehead. "Bella was almost _raped_."

"She's going to be okay." He said, his hand finding my shoulder. "She has you taking care of her."

I sucked in air through my nose and exhaled it out of my mouth. "I let this happen." My breathing went hard again as I started to panic, the world going soft around the edges. "This is my fault."

"No, no." Jake shook his head. "Mike's a bastard. He was going to try something with or without you standing in the way. Don't blame yourself." Both of his hands found my shoulders and he forced me to look into his black eyes. "You just have to be there for her, right now. Okay?

I nodded and forced myself to calm down. "Be there for her?" I whispered.

"One hundred percent." He said. "You can't get all wrapped up in your head, right now. Okay?"

I sucked in a deep breath, my lungs protesting against the force. "Okay." I nodded. "Okay." I sucked in another breath and rubbed my chest, feeling the bruise from Mike's punch. "Thanks Jake."

Jake smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Anytime, bro." He turned and hopped down the stairs. "I'll be right back with your things." He called over his shoulder.

I turned and went the opposite way, ascending the rest of the stair and getting myself into the small bathroom. Bella was telling the truth. She vomited. Unfortunately, the position Jake left her in meant she got sick all over her dress and got some in her hair. _I'll have to clean her up._

She had also fallen unconscious again, her arms wrapped around her as she curled into a ball against the side of the tub.

I spun around and went to her room, finding a pair of old pajama shorts and a t-shirt that looked like it was meant for sleeping in in her dresser after some light excavating. I moved back to the bathroom and placed everything down on the cover of the toilet.

"Bella," I said and knelt down next to the tub and placing my hand on her shoulder. "Bella, my love, I have to get you cleaned up. Can you wake up for a moment?"

"Edward," She breathed, her eyelids fluttering. She looked at the vomit on her dress, her fingers coming up to grip the material. "Don't look at me." She shook her head. "I'm gross."

"Well, it's a good thing your boyfriend is a cancer survivor." I smiled gently and removed her boots and socks. "You get pretty used to the throw up after the first thirty times of doing it."

Her eyes drifted to me and her hand came out. I gripped her fingers, even though they had chunks of vomit on them. "I love you." She garbled.

"I love you too." I said. "Can you stand?"

"Stand?" She repeated and started to move like she was going to to get to her feet, but then slumped over. "No," She shook her head. "No stand."

"Okay," I said. "Is it okay if I take off your dress? I need to get you cleaned up."

She nodded. "Mhmm." She held her arms straight up like a child so I could slip her dress over her head. I was careful to contain the mess, so I didn't accidently get any more on her.

I hadn't seen Bella naked yet.

We had gotten very close to that part on multiple occasions, but I wasn't entirely ready to go all the way. I was a virgin and I want my first time with Bella to be _special._ And I was apprehensive. I didn't want my bad lungs and scarred up body to ruin it.

I imagined it, however. Late at night, when I could sleep. While I daydreamed during class. When I would see that glint of lust in Bella's eyes when she would kiss me. I imagined her warm, naked body up against mine, being able to take her uninhibited. Being able to _feel_ her as we connected like only two people in love should.

Now, I just felt hollow and heavy. Guilt weighed on me, making all my limbs feel like they weighed a million pounds as I stood up and pulled the handheld showerhead out of its holder and started the water, being careful not to shock her with a blast of cold. _You should've protected her._

I washed her hair for her, carefully rinsing out the throw up and then rinsing off her arm, where she nailed it too.

"Edward," She mumbled again, her eyebrows furrowing as I held up her pale arm, inspecting it to make sure I got everything.

"I'm right here." I said and rubbed her hand.

" _Fuck_ Mike Newton." She said intensely.

I nodded, my stomach churning. "Agreed."

She shifted and moved and suddenly she was on her feet, her hand on the wall of the shower, the other on me as she gripped my shirt. Her body was so slight and pale, she blended in with the white subway tile of her shower. "And _fuck_ cancer." She scrunched her face like she was pissed.

Without thinking about it, I laughed at her as I held her up and carefully turned off the shower. "Also agreed."

"And fuck Will Ferrell." She mumbled. "I _hate_ that guy. He can't act."

"That's where I have to draw the line." I joked and helped her over the lip of the tub.

She reached behind her and undid her bra, which was now soaking wet and let it drop and then shimmied her panties to the floor. I averted my eyes as she stood in the middle of her bathroom naked.

"Fuck 'em all." She garbled as I handed her the clothes I had gathered for her. She struggled into her t-shirt and I helped her get her limbs through the proper holes, feeling the heat in my face when I would accidentally catch glimpses. "You're not allowed to die, okay?" She said, her eyebrows still furrowed and her face red as she slapped the hem of her shorts.

"Okay," I said as I led her with my arm wrapped around her to her room. "I'm not allowed to die."

I got her all the way into bed, where she slipped into the purple bedspread.

"I mean it." She whispered. "You're not allowed to leave me."

"Okay." I ran my fingers down her face and tucked the blanket around her. "Sleep now, okay?"

"Okay." She gripped my hand as she sighed. "Don't _leave_ me."

"I won't." I whispered. _I promise._

* * *

 _October 31, 2016_

I heard the front door open but didn't move from my space next to Bella on her bed. I was on my phone, Googling the after effects of Rohypnol so I knew what to expect in the morning and I listened to Bella's soft breaths as she slept, letting the slow rhythm calm me down as worry laced through me.

Jacob clunked up the stairs and came into Bella's bedroom with my blue concentrator under one arm and a Target bag of clothes in the other. He tossed me the bag and I opened it up to a new outfit, my toothbrush, my mask and my AM/PM divider of pills.

"Bro, I said tanks." I whispered so I didn't wake Bella.

"This means you don't have to rush home tomorrow." He said and set it up next to the bed next to me, throwing me the cannula. "Also tanks are too _loud_ to sneak out of the house."

"Did Mom catch you?"

"No." He said. "Mom was asleep."

There was a moment of hard silence as Jake got on the floor and plugged in the concentrator under Bella's nightstand. I switched to that cannula and turned it on, filling the quiet with the low hum of the motor and the bubbling of the humidifier.

"How is she?" He asked.

"She has very strong opinions on Will Ferrell, apparently." I said with a small smile. "Other than that, I think she'll be okay."

He sat on Bella's floor, his elbows on his knees and shook his head. "Tonight was supposed to be fun." He tapped his heel on Bella's hardwood. "Damn Mike Newton."

"What did you guys do to him?"

"Held him under the water of the hot tub until he cried." Jacob ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't think he'll be bothering her anymore." He snorted. "If he knows what's good for him."

I looked at Bella who had curled into a little ball, her fingers clenched together next to her face like she was trying to pray really hard. Her nose scrunched and then relaxed.

A million regrets ran through me, filling me up, threatening to pour over. They made my skin feel suffocating, like it was too tight on my body. "I should've been there to protect her."

"Edward," Jake groaned. "You _were_ there."

"I wasn't fast enough." I scowled and pulled my knees to my chest. "I'm never fast enough. Or good enough. Or _well_ enough." I sighed and pressed my hand to my forehead as I watched Bella shift around.I let myself fall silent, the only sounds coming from my concentrate as it clicked with my breaths and whirred with the motor. _They should've just pulled the plug._ I thought. _Save everyone so much grief._

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I looked up to Jacob. "You done?"

I sucked in a hard breath a winced. "Yeah." I let it out. "I'm done."

"Okay." He said. "You know that Bella loves you, right?"

"Yeah."

"And I love you, right?"

"Yeah." I looked at the bruise on my hand.

"And-,"

"Mom and Dad and Rache and Becks love me too." I finished for him.

"So…"

"…stop with the 'woe is me' crap?" I asked.

"You got it." He squeezed my shoulder and jammed his hands into his jacket.

"I wish I could just be strong." I said. "Like you."

Something flashed in his eyes. "You are, Edward." He looked at me. "You're the strongest person I know."

* * *

 **So, I wanted Edward to be a hero and not a perpetual victim lol heNCE these chapters. Hold onto your hats because we're going snuggie-levels of soft for the next part**


	15. Chapter 15

_Jacob_

 _October 14, 2013_

 _"_ _Hey, Jake." Olivia, the hot, new girl from Neah Bay said as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. She was part Makah and part African American and the mixture created this absolute specimen of beauty that I was pretty sure had come down from the heavens to bless the Western Hemisphere._

 _And she was here, with me._

 _"_ _Hey, Olivia." I answered back, getting so close I could see her hazel eyes dance at me. My fingers came up and ran through her wavy hair._

 _We leaned in like two halves coming together, magnets finding their mates again. Our lips met and hers tasted like honey and sunshine and…_

Something jerked me awake. _Dammit._ I cursed as I was rudely ripped from unconsciousness. _It was just a dream._

I rolled over in my bunk, my fingers gripping the metal as I pulled myself over to see what caused the bed to jostle. Usually it was just Edward, who had these crazy, thrashy dreams sometimes that would convulse his whole body around like he was having a seizure. I just had to wake him up and he would calm himself down and relax and go back to bed.

But, Edward wasn't in his bed. I squinted past his bunk into our room and found him standing next to his bed, his sheets balled in his arms. He dropped the pile on the floor and then ripped off his shirt. I watched him in confusion, trying to make sense of what he was doing. _Is he sleepwalking?_

"Edward," I whispered and he jumped at his name. _Definitely not sleep walking._ "What are you doing?"

"Nothing." He said hurriedly once he had recovered from being startled out of his skin. "Go back to bed."

I stared at him longer though. All of his blankets and stuff were on the floor, leaving him with a bare mattress, like a prison. Through the haze of being woken up at two in the morning, I started connecting dots. "Did you wet the bed?" I whispered, lamely veiling the snicker that came through my nose in the form of a snort.

"No!" Even in the dark, I could see him blush.

"Dude, you're _fourteen_." I said. "Aren't you a little-,"

His hot, sweaty hand clamped over my face. "I didn't wet the bed." He spat. "I had a bad dream and when I woke up, everything was drenched in sweat."

"What was your dream about?" I asked when he let go of my face.

"I don't know." He mumbled.

" _Edward_ …" I groaned.

He sucked in a breath and I heard the metal of the bunk creak under his weight as he got back into bed. "It's stupid."

"Stupid is as stupid does." I quoted my dad's favorite movie as I rolled over and stared at my ceiling.

He was silent for a long moment. I started to think he had gone back to sleep when he finally spoke. "I had a dream that Mom and Dad dropped me off at the animal shelter." He whispered.

"Like a cat?" I sniggered again.

There was about thirty seconds of hard silence. "Yes." He whispered again.

"Why would we do that?"

"Because I'm adopted." He sighed. "And defective."

"You're not defective." I said and rolled my eyes. "And the only person that cares that you're adopted is Sam Uley."

"I know." He said. "I said it was stupid."

"That is kind of stupid." I agreed, my eyelids starting to feel heavy and sleep starting to take me.

"Goodnight Jake." He said. "Sorry for waking you."

"Night."

* * *

 _November 18, 2013_

I was minding my own business when an arm looped around my neck and I smelled the familiar scent of Ivory soap and Snuggle laundry detergent and knew immediately that it was Edward because I used the same soap and detergents.

I tried wrenching him off of me, but he held me in a half-nelson and I couldn't get my arm around him.

"Race you to the front of the school?" Edward ask as he held me.

"You're so on!" I screeched back.

He let go and took off – his backpack smacking against his bottom as it threatened to fall off his arms – turning into a phantom of red hair and white skin. I chased after him, following the golden snitch keychain on his backpack as we wove through the crowd of students that milled around, talking to their friends and gathering their books before getting on the bus to go home.

Edward was too damn fast though. Where I was a brute-strength kind of person, he was quick and darty. If I could just grab him, I could throw him to the ground and claim my rightful place as victor of this race.

My hands came out and hit the push bar of the entrance door and I burst out into the chilly, fall air that was swirling with mist, my sights still set on his keychain. I reached out, my fingers almost brushing it…

He hit the brakes suddenly and I ran into his back, almost throwing him off of his feet. "Bro!" I groaned as I straightened myself out and then grabbed his shoulder to straighten him before he faceplanted and I got blamed later by Mom for pushing him into the ground. "What the hell?"

He just pointed and I looked at his wide, green eyes first before following his finger. Instead of the line of buses like there usually were at 3:12 in the afternoon, there were cars of our parents, all stacked up against the curb waiting for us.

"What's going on?" Edward breathed.

I found Harry and Sue Clearwater as they gathered Leah. I found Mr. Uley. I found Mrs. Call. Mr. Ateara. It seemed like the whole reservation was here. And none of them looked happy.

"Something with the tribe?" I guessed as I spotted Mom's gold Buick.

"Hi, babies." She greeted with a smile when we approached. Her work outfit was on, but she had taken her braid out, so her dark hair hung long around her shoulders.

"What's going on, Mom?" Edward asked as he slipped into the backseat behind me.

"We're going to talk about it with your father." She said as she twisted the key of the ignition.

"Did something happen with the council?" I asked as I watched my classmates and friends file into their own family's cars.

"We're going to talk about it," She repeated, her eyes tightening around the edges. "With your father."

* * *

 _November 18, 2013_

Dad was already home, which was weird since it was day one of his two days on. He sat on the couch, still dressed in his LPFD t-shirt and dark blue, fire-retardant cargo pants. He hadn't even taken off his boots yet.

All of this strangeness was making me feel eerie and heavy inside. _Something's wrong._ I thought as I looked at everyone's faces. _Something's not right._

"Take a seat, boys." He motioned to the couch.

Edward and I did as we were instructed, lowering ourselves down in tandem onto the couch. Dad leaned forward on the recliner so his butt was on the edge, his hands lacing together and his face a stoic mask. Mom looped her hair into her fingers as she took a seat on the lounger.

"Now, you boys know how the AIAN laws work, right?" Dad asked. "Have you learned that in school, yet?"

"The tribe receives funding from the Bureau of Indian Affairs." Edward said, his fingers lacing together nervously. "Which the tribe uses for housing, social services, schools – stuff like that."

I rolled my eyes. _What a nerd._

"Right." Dad nodded. "This year, the BIA has gotten massive funding cuts, which means the tribe isn't going to be getting same amount of money that it did last year or the year prior."

"What does that mean?" I blurted. "The tribe's broke?" _We've always been broke._ I thought. _That's nothing new._

"In essence, yes."

"Don't you work for the BIA, Mom?" Edward piped up, his eyebrows furrowing.

Her eyes went to the floor. "They laid me off today. They laid almost everyone off today."

Edward and I both froze with surprise. I tore my eyes away from them both and looked at my hands, which were dark and red in complexion. I looked at Edward's, which were white and covered in freckles next to mine.

"What about you, Dad?" I asked.

"They let me keep my job, but I've had to take a step down in pay to do so." He said, his voice becoming strained.

"Which is a blessing." My mother added. "Other families are completely unemployed now."

"The council is going to fight it and see if we can get more funding, since more than half of the tribe is employed directly through the BIA, but until then, we only have one income." Mom put her hand on Dad's shoulder and his rose to cover it. "Which means, there is going to be some changes in this house, boys. The purse strings are going to get a little tighter, okay?"

We both nodded, but Edward's mouth popped opened. "What does that mean?" He asked, his voice small and scared.

"Well, we're going to be a little stricter in budget. More pasta nights, that sort of thing." Mom said. "And we're not going to be taking a family vacation this year or probably next." She sighed.

I was disappointed at that. Mom wanted to see Rebecca, who was stationed with her husband Liam and their new baby, Piper at the big Navy base in Miami. We were going to go the beach. _One that we can actually swim in._

"We'll probably also try and sell the red truck and my car and have a garage sale." She said. "So, start going through your old things."

"What about cross country?" Edward's hangs wrung. The tribe school didn't have a lot of sports teams, but they did have a running club, which Edward loved. He was their best runner.

Mom shook her head, her eyes sad. "I'm sorry, baby. We can't afford the fees."

"The whole tribe is affected by this, Edward." Dad said when he watched Edward's shoulders crumple with disappointment. "Even if you _could_ participate, you'd probably be the only one."

Something jolted me, an idea that I didn't think of. "What about Thanksgiving?" I started panicking at the thought of _not_ having a turkey or stuffing or Mom's famous homemade mac n' cheese. _We had to have Thanksgiving._

"Well," My mom smiled. "I already bought the turkey, so Thanksgiving is happening."

I breathed with relief. _Well, it's something._ A small oasis in this desert of dark times.

"We'll make it through this." My mom opened her arms and Edward and I stood up for a family group hug that were only allowed in the privacy of our own homes away from the eyes of our friends. I put my arm around Edward and the other around my mom's waist. "We make it through everything." She breathed and pressed her cheek to the top of my head.

"Totally." I agreed.

"We _are_ the Blacks." Edward said, his voice light but, I could feel him tremble, just slightly, underneath my fingertips.

* * *

 _January 20, 2014_

Well, I thought being broke sucked. But being below-poverty-level-barely-making-ends-meet broke doubly sucked.

We _did_ have pasta. Mom was not lying about the pasta thing. We had it about five nights a week. And the nights we didn't have pasta in some form – mac n' cheese, pasta casserole, cheese lasagna, or just straight up ramen – then we would have hot dogs. I had _nightmares_ about pasta and hot dogs, we consumed so much of them.

We also canceled cable and basically everything else that we didn't _need_ – cell phone plans, internet, Netflix, and I think the gas to the house was the table at some point. Maybe not the last one. But, it felt like it sometimes.

We also sold stuff. Dad got rid of most of his hunting rifles and his bow. Mom sold jewelry. All of our camping stuff. The lawnmower. Edward and I turned over our bikes and old gaming systems that we no longer played. Old clothes that were in good condition were taken to the consignment shop. Mom and Dad even argued over selling the washer and dryer and just doing laundry at the Laundromat.

It felt like all we thought about was money. _Don't leave the light on, it's a waste of money. We can't do that, we don't have the funds. Don't grab that one, grab the other one. It's cheaper. We can find a better deal somewhere else._ It was like a plague, affecting how we looked at _everything_. It sucked ass.

It was, however, slightly comforting to know that the whole reservation was having the same problems.

At school, they had to restructure our classes as some of the teachers had to be laid off or they got out to find better jobs. Which meant grades were squished together. Ninth and tenth were pushed together in our classroom and we jumped all of a sudden from the quadratic equation to geometry and the Mesopotamian era into the Roman golden age.

At the grocery store, all the name brand stuff stood in the middle of the shelves like lined up sentries, while the bulk stuff was all picked through and empty. We ran into friends at the pawn shop and the consignment shop and the Salvation Army. None of got presents on Christmas. We were all wearing holes in our shoes. Our lunches all consisted of PB&Js.

It was small things like that kept us together, made us closer as a reservation, I thought. We found friends in people who used to be enemies. Things were patched and we were bonded on the sole fact that we were all penniless. Everyone was a friend during these hard times.

Well, except for Edward.

"What are those?" I asked as I slid onto the lunch table bench next to Edward as he crumpled something in his fists.

"More adoption center pamphlets." He let the brightly colored wad of paper fall to the table. He slumped forward like a wilting flower. His chin hit the table and he dug his nail into an imperfection of the wood.

Edward had always been scrutinized being the only white kid in a reservation school. But, now he had become the target of animosity. Everyone looked at him like he was physically taking food out of their mouths. Like he was robbing everyone blind. Just because he looked different. Just because he wasn't technically a Quileute. Even Embry and Quil didn't look him in the eye anymore, and they were our best friends.

"Where's your lunch?" I asked.

"I gave it Jared." He said flatly.

"Did you give it to Jared or did Jared take it from you?"

"Does it matter?" He flicked the wad of pamphlets and we both watched it roll.

My temper flared and I felt my fists ball. Edward was a Black. _Period_. He was no less of a Black than me or Dad or Rachel or Becca. The fact that he was adopted into the family while we were all born didn't change _anything._

I started to get up from the table.

"Where are you going?" Edward picked his head up.

"I'm going to talk to Jared." I said.

I felt Edward's fingers wrap around my wrist. I looked down into his green eyes, which were swimming with tears. "Don't." He said. "It'll just give them more reason to pick on me."

I sighed, the anger steaming out of me like a tea kettle. "You have to stop letting them do this to you, Edboy." I said. "You have to fight back."

"I don't want to fight back." He put his head back on his arms.

I sat back down next to him, pulled my lunch out – a PB&J of course – and split it in half, sticking one half into my mouth and sliding the other towards Edward on the cellophane.

"I'm not hungry." He said

"Edward," I groaned. " _Eat_."

At my order, he picked up the sandwich and nibbled on the edge, his face still pressed to his arm on the table. I was in the middle my sandwich, staring out of the window of the lunchroom at the ocean that churned with the approaching storm, when a hand came between me and Edward and snatched the sandwich half that Edward was nibbling on out of his fingers.

I whipped around to Sam who dropped the sandwich and stepped on it, jelly squirting out from the edge of his worn sneaker. "Hey, Edward." He said, his chin tipping slightly. "I heard if your mom kept the receipts, she can get a full refund on you. A whole two dollars and thirty-two cents."

Choler churned inside of me like the storm churned that ocean outside. I was the Pacific, about ready to break the shoreline and swallow anyone that dared stand in my way. _Starting with Sam._ I jerked to my feet and got into Sam's face. "I'll beat your ass." I smiled at all the past memories of me punching Sam's face in. "You know I will."

"I don't know why you protect him." Sam's chest bumped with mine. "He's not one of us."

"Yes he _is."_ I insisted.

"Jake," Edward said. "Stop."

"No, he isn't. He's some white boy that should've been swallowed by his white trash moth-,"

I grabbed Sam's shirt, my fists clenching into the material and pulled him close so I could see the ring of gold in his back eyes. "Shut the fuck up." I growled lowly.

"Jake," Edward's hand wrapped around my arm and tried to pull me back. " _Stop_." I looked down to Edward. "It's not worth it."

I let go of Sam's shirt, which he made a big show of straightening. "No," Sam agreed, his eyes flicking to Edward. " _He's_ not."

* * *

 _January 25, 2014_

"You have a doctor's appointment today." Mom said when she poked her head in our room. I heard _doctor's appointment_ and immediately tuned out the sentence. If it had to do with doctors, it was Edward's bag. Regularly scheduled visits with Dr. Bears - our favorite burly football-player-turned-oncologist - were apart of daily hum of the Black household.

"Okay," Edward said as he slipped his head through the head hole of his favorite hoodie. He never went without his hoodie – this Hurley brand threadbare black thing – even when our teacher cranked up the heater in the classroom to 82 degrees because she was constantly cold.

They had a conversation about today's reshuffling of schedules and I busied myself with pulling out today's math workbook and Edward's math workbook so I could copy down his answers really quick before I had to head for the bus.

"Jake," Mom said and I turned towards the source of my name. "You're going to stay home today too."

I felt my brows furrow in confusion. I wasn't against random days off from school, but usually Mom just checked Edward out and they went to PA together. "Why?"

"I got you and Edward dentists appointment." She smiled. "I finally got that old computer sold on Craigslist." She seemed pleased with herself. "Teeth cleanings for everyone."

"Oh." I said and shrugged, abandoning the workbooks for another time. While sitting around dentist and doctor's appointments were not my ideal day off, I was just happy that I didn't have to go to school and deal with everyone staring at Edward like they wanted to eat him.

The trip to Port Angeles never happened.

We sat in Mom's old Buick while she tried to get the ignition to catch, but each time she twisted the key it just made a horrible grinding noise.

"You're gonna flood it." I said as I listened to her try again from the passenger seat.

"What do you know about cars?" She asked, her black eyes flashing with annoyance as she glared at the dashboard.

"I know some." I said. "I watch Dad change the oil."

"We're going to be late to the oncology appointment." Mom rubbed her temples. "The car _can't_ be broken. This is exactly what we _don't_ need at the moment."

"I feel fine." Edward volunteered from the backseat, his hands clasped around his old CD player in his lap. Dad had pulled out his CD collection when we were finding things to sell and Edward had found it and was systematically going through all of them. "Skipping one appointment won't kill me."

Mom sighed and opened the door, the cab filling with the bongs of the alarm that told you you were forgetting your keys in the ignition. "I'm going to call Harry and see if he can take a quick look at it."

Edward and I both stepped out too. I kicked a rock into our front yard as Mom paced around on my phone. Edward removed his earbuds and tied them around his CD player. "You want to kick a soccer ball around or something?"

"Of course." I said and rolled my eye to the cloudy sky.

Edward grabbed the ball and we took to the black asphalt in front of our house, the goals our driveway and the Lockharts' driveway across the street. Edward seemed to be in better spirits when he was away from school – his lopsided smile finding it's way on our face as we played keep-away from each other.

I glanced at the sky as I tried to steal the ball away from my brother. I looked at his bronzy red hair and his freckled face and his slanted grin and his shamrock green eyes. Yeah, he looked different from the rest of us, but he was so much _more_ than that. He was kind and docile and intuitive and way too intelligent for his own good. _Why can't everyone else see that?_ I frowned when I thought of how horribly he was treated at school. _Why can't they see what I see?_

We stopped when an old tow truck advertising Harry's body shop in faded paint. Edward bent over and grabbed the ball and we both scampered back to the sidewalk to let him through. He pulled into the driveway next to Mom's Buick.

"Harry!" We both greeted.

"Hey, boys." He smiled and stepped out of the truck. "What are you guys doing?

"We were going to the doctor's." Edward said as he bounced the ball on his knee. "But the car won't start."

"Yeah," He stroked his chin, his dark hair braided behind him. "By the description she gave, it sounded like she flooded it."

"That's what _I_ said." I tipped my chin up. _I knew it._

Mom came out of the house. "Harry," She greeted him with a hug. "This damn thing is giving me so much trouble." She motioned to her car.

"Well, let's take a looksy."

Mom got into the car and popped the hood and I walked over to watch Harry fix the car, my eyes running over the guts of the engine. Harry propped the hood up on its skinny stand and started working over a black box, fiddling up a black cap. He grunted, moved to his truck, pulled out a long wrench and went back to the engine. He stuffed the wrench in a hole and twisted and then removed it, revealing a little silver cylinder.

"That's a spark plug." I said.

"You got it." Harry said and twisted it around, inspecting it. "They're a little wet." He bent down and blew away debris around its hole. "But they're in good shape, otherwise."

I watched as he pulled out all six of them, declaring one no good. He moved to his tow truck, pulled out a replacement plug.

"I'll let you do it." He handed me the replacement plug and the wrench.

I looked at Harry in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah, it's easy."

He coached me through it – from how to measure the plug, check the terminal inside for debris, inserting the plug in the socket and then screwing it in, being careful not to over-tighten it, and then reinstall the plug into the engine with its wire. _I'm actually kind of good at this._ I thought as I felt the wire snap into place.

"Okay, Sarah." Harry called. "Try turning it over."

She started the engine and it roared to life. I jammed my fists in the air. _I did that._ "That's so cool."

Mom got out of her car. "Harry, I'm so grateful. You're a life saver."

"I didn't do anything." He held up his hands and motioned to me. "He was a wiz."

Mom kissed my head. "My little mechanic." She turned back to Harry. "How much do I owe you?"

"Nothing but your famous apple pie the next time you make one."

"I'll make you a whole one."

Harry rubbed his belly. "Please, do." He turned to me. "If you ever want some pocket change, I could use an extra pair of hands in the shop."

My eyes widened as I looked from Mom to Harry and back again. _He wanted me?_ "Yes! That would be awesome!"

Harry said his goodbyes and got into his truck, the door creaking as he closed it. We both watched Harry's tow truck pulled out of the driveway and then turn at the corner, disappearing down the street.

"Well," Mom glanced at her watch once the rumble of the truck disappeared. "We missed Edward's oncology appointment, so I'll have to reschedule that. But, if we hurry, we can still make your dentists appointments." She turned to me. "Will you go find your brother?"

I glanced around, not even realizing he had left my side. _Where'd he go?_ I nodded and darted into the house. "Edward!" I called, looking around the living room and the kitchen. I double-backed when I didn't find him and started towards our room. _He's probably listening to music._ I rolled my eyes as I walked down the hallway.

I heard coughing and froze outside the bathroom door. It was a hacking, rattling cough that started deep in the chest. The types of coughs that sounded like your lungs were trying to push something up, something that shouldn't be there.

The door was partially opened, so I peeked in quietly to see what was going on.

Edward had both of his hands on the vanity and was bent over the bowl of the sink. He coughed again. _That doesn't sound very good._ I thought as I listened to it. He coughed and coughed until something came up.

I watched in silent horror, my eyes widening as I watched him spit into the sink, the white porcelain of the bowl splashing red with blood.

* * *

 _November 1, 2016_

"Jacob." I was shaken awake, a hand on my shoulder. I groaned as I chased unconsciousness, but the shaking just increased in speed and force when I didn't immediately open my eyes. "Jacob William Ephraim Black. Wake up."

I opened my eyes to my mother's face, her gaze set in a stern scowl. "Good morning, Mom." I groaned and rubbed my cheek.

"Where is your brother?" She spat and held up her cell phone. "I get this text from him at one in the morning? 'I'm staying over at Bella's. Will explain tomorrow.'" She read from the screen. "The living room concentrator is gone. What the hell happened last night?"

"Mom," I groaned, my fingers coming to face to wipe the sleepies from my eyes. "Edward's almost eighteen. You can't baby him forever." I answered and squeezed my eyes shut.

That pissed her off. Her black eyes flashed. "Jacob Will-,"

"-liam Ephraim Black." I finished for her and sat up, being careful to duck so I didn't clonk my head on the ceiling. "You don't have to use all forty of my names every time you want to say something, Mom."

She sighed. "Just tell me what happened before I call Charlie Swan and tell him that _my_ son and _his_ daughter are shacking up somewhere."

Panic flashed through me at the mention of Charlie and I leaned over and snatched her cell phone out of her hand. "Fine." I groaned. "We went to Lauren's party last night and Bella…" I looked down at Mom's cell phone – this old Android that had a crack in the screen that shot up the edge like a lightning bolt – debating whether or not to tell the truth. I sighed. "She got drugged. Edward wanted to stay with her to make sure she was okay."

I tensed my shoulders as I watched Mom's face flicked through a bunch of emotions, anticipating the verbal onslaught of _being more responsible_ and _illegal drinking_ and how she was _disappointed_ in our choices and that we were _smarter than that._

But, her face froze on disbelief, her eyebrows furrowing. "Bella was…roofied?"

I nodded.

"And both of you boys thought it was best to let your oxygen-dependent brother stay with her instead of calling the police?" She put her hands on her hips, her voice raise in pitch as I watched her imagine the worst possible scenario – probably Edward dead in a ditch somewhere.

" _Mom_." I groaned. "Edward can take care of himself. He has his concentrator _and_ his meds _and_ his cell phone." I rolled out of bed, my bare feet hitting the carpeting. "I made sure he would be set." My eyebrows furrowed. I always took care of Edward. _She knows that._

She pinched the bridge of her nose as she breathed in deep breaths. "So he's okay?"

"Yes."

"And Bella's okay?" Her voice went soft. "She wasn't…assaulted or anything, right?"

I shook my head as I winced at the memory of her passed out on the bed. "No, Edward got to her before anything could happen."

She sighed with relief, her head shaking. "Poor baby." Her eyes flashed up at me/

"And you can save the lecture on underage drinking." I cut her off and ran my fingers through my hair. "Edward didn't have anything..."

" _Good_."

"And I didn't either." _Not completely true._ I had one cupful of that witch's brew stuff that tasted like Jolly Ranchers.

She yanked her cell phone out of my hand, spun around like she was going to storm out and then froze, her shoulders hunching.

"Mom?"

She sucked in a deep, ragged breath and I twisted her around to see that she had tears in her eyes. "Two and a half years ago, I was expecting him not to come home. I was afraid I was going to have to bury my baby boy." Her voice cracked. "Now, look at him." She choked out a laugh, her smile in contrast to the tears on her face. "He's going to high school parties and staying over at his _girlfriend's_ house."

I took her shoulders and hugged her. "He's come a long way. We've _all_ come a long way."

"I don't mean to baby him." I felt her tears wet my shirt. "I'm just so afraid of losing him."

"I know." I rubbed her arm. _I'm afraid of losing him too._

* * *

 **I lied. My apologies. The NEXT chapter will the snuggie-levels of soft. I wanted to blindside you with EMOTIONS, I guess. Oh well. LEAVE REVIEWS I LOVE YOU READERS THANK YOU**

 *****Aside - IDK if y'all are on Twitter, but I've seen a random increase of Twilight-related tweets and it's weirding me out. Why is this trending again? Why am I still writing garbage fics for this franchise? *panics in existential dread***

 **Arazatah - your reviews are oddly and wonderfully poetic. I love them and you. May all of your breakfast foods be delicious you golden/chestnut/raven-haired arabian stallion.**

 **Mercyrus - Edboy and Jake as brothers turned oddly soft. Chenille-blanket soft, bunny rabbit soft. Which, I think is a nice break from the pinned-against-each-other-for-Bella's-affections trope that the Twilight series pushed.**


	16. Chapter 16

**It was pointed out to me in the reviews that I rated this fic T when it is not T, but if I rate it M it literally disappears from searches bc FF's rating system is wack and I refuse to change it lol**

 **I guess I'll just throw a warning front of chapters that mentions the sex. Warning this chapter has some of the sex. Not lemon sex (i hate that) but like some of the sex. Okay. That is all. Carry on.**

* * *

 _Bella_

 _November 1, 2016_

Pain drummed on my temples like someone was tap-dancing on my head with soccer cleats on. I sucked in a breath, let it out through my mouth and rolled over, groaning the whole way.

 _What happened?_ I tried to sift through my immediate memories of yesterday. I remembered showing up at Lauren's house, feeling slightly disgusted with my own species, and then I remember beer pong. Edward was playing beer pong against Mike Newton and then…

Nothing.

I sucked in another breath and opened my eyes to my ceiling. I knew it was my ceiling because of the crack that spiderwebbed from the east corner and the flowery light fixture that was installed in 1958 and then never looked at again. _At least I was in my own room._ I mused. After doing my homework of watching a nauseating amount of romantic comedies in my efforts of figuring out what a relationship should look like, I had found the randomly-waking-up-in-someone-else's-bed-after-a-night-of-drunken-foolery was a trope used _way_ too often.

My hand fished around for my cell phone on my covers to check the time and to make sure I didn't accidentally take any embarrassing photos. I usually plugged in it at night and then promptly fell asleep on it. My mother hated that I did that, convinced I was going to give myself brain tumors from the cell signal or something.

Suddenly, it appeared in front of my eyes like Casper the friendly ghost.

"Creeping cat shit," I jumped, like, fifteen feet out of my skin, my hand falling over my heart that was racing a million miles per hour.

I traced the freckled hand that held it to its owner – Edward – who was sitting on the other side of my bed, an oxygen mask attached to his face. His eyes flashed with concern. "Sorry for startling you."

"It's okay." I said and sat up, rubbing my throbbing forehead. I looked at my room, which was the same except for Edward's blue concentrator running next to the bed and a pill divider on my nightstand. I looked at my pajamas. My hand ran through my hair, which was damp like I had showered and then immediately went to bed. _Why does my arm smell like throw up?_

I looked back at Edward, who was still wearing his C-3PO shirt and black jeans from last night, his hair an unkempt mess on his head and circles rimming his eyes like he didn't get much sleep last night. "What the fuck happened last night?"

"What do you remember?" His eyes flashed and tightened like he was in pain.

"Not much." I answered honestly. "Party. Beer pong. Mike Newton being a dildo." I frowned as I couldn't remember anything beyond that. It was like a gigantic question mark on the rest of the evening. _How drunk did I get?_

Edward's eyes flashed at the mention of Mike Newton and his jaw set, but before I could ask what he meant by that, Charlie's face popped in my head and I felt a flash of horror overshadow the pounding headache. "Oh, no." I breathed.

"Bella," Edward scooted over to me, his hand on my arm, alarm in his eyes. "I got to you first. Nothing happ-,"

"Charlie!"

Edward froze. "Charlie?"

"He said 'no boys over' this weekend." I slumped back on my pillow and rubbed my face. " _What_ am I going to tell him?" _You can't lie._ I ran my lip through my teeth and groaned.

Edward pulled me to his chest and rubbed my arm. "If you get in trouble, I can talk to him. It's okay."

I cuddled against my boyfriend, listening to his raspy breaths and his heartbeat. He pressed his cheek against my head, the oxygen mask squishing against my hair. _Okay._ I thought. I would always be okay when I was in Edward's arms.

Confusion laced through me, though. _I got to you first._ Edward's words rang in my head. Why couldn't I remember anything from last night? "Edward?" I asked. "What happened at the party?"

His arm rubbing froze and he stiffened. I listened to his heartbeat, counting them. I restarted when I got to sixty. I was on my second loop at thirty-seven when Edward finally spoke. "Mike Newton roofied you." He finally said, the words coming out of him mechanically.

"Oh." I managed in response, disgust and horror lacing through me. "Did anything…?" I dropped my sentence as my skin began to crawl as I thought of Mike touching me, holding me, _raping_ me?

He resumed vigorously rubbing my arm. "No." He said sternly. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you." He whispered.

I sighed with relief, melting against him again. "I know you wouldn't." I ran my hand down his chest and sighed.

"He got close, though." He whispered, his breathing hitching and his arms tightening. "I tried to get to you first, but you went up the stairs and I'm really, _really_ slow on the stairs. I got to you before he did anything, but I was almost too late, Bella. If I-,"

I moved my hand to his face and pulled back, the sensation causing my head to spin a little. "But nothing happened?"

"No," He looked at his fist, which was covered in a red and purple bruise. "I punched him before he could touch you."

"You _punched_ Mike Newton?" I asked in disbelief.

He nodded and I let my head slump against his chest. I imagined my boyfriend winding one back and socking Mike Newton, his ice blue eyes wide with shock. It was hard to imagine, but not impossible. Edward wasn't a wimp. _I'm kind of glad I wasn't conscious._ I thought. "It's probably best that I can't remember anything then, huh?"

He choked out a strangled laugh. "Probably."

We sat together for a long moment. I listened to Edward's heart thrum in his chest and the motor of his concentrator running, trying to clear my head, but couldn't. Something else bothered me. "Edward."

"Yes, my love?" He asked. I smiled, feeling my heart thrum in my chest. Everyone at school called their boyfriends and girlfriends 'babe' or 'baby.' Edward called me 'my love.' He was different and so perfect.

"I don't remember anything about last night after you started playing beer pong." I sat up to look into his face. "Besides being almost violated by Mike Newton," His eyes tightened at that. "Which is horrifying and something we will _never_ speak of again, okay?"

"Agreed." He said through his teeth.

"I didn't say or do anything embarrassing, do I?" I felt my eyebrows scrunch.

He smiled gently and relaxed, his breaths fogging up his mask and his fingers playing with the ends of my hair. "You had some strong opinions."

"What did I say?"

"Well, you don't like Will Ferrell, apparently. Which is perplexing." He said. "To be honest, I almost broke up with you over that last night." My favorite smile found its way on his face.

I grimaced. "No Will Ferrell movie I've seen I've liked."

He shook his head. "I can't believe I fell in love with you. _Talladega Nights_ is cinematic artistry."

"Talladega Nights is ridiculous and I actually kind of like NASCAR." I argued.

"Have you seen _Stranger Than Fiction_?"

"No."

"Okay, that's what we're doing today." He said. "We're watching that."

I rolled my eyes and snatched his hand. "I don't want to watch a Will Ferrell movie. They're all so _bad_."

"You have to watch this one, though." He said and laced his fingers through mine. "When is your dad coming home?"

I found my phone and lit it up. I groaned at the time. 7:43. No wonder my head hurt so bad. I needed like four extra hours of sleep. I had missed a call from Charlie from twenty minutes ago. "I'll let you know." I said and slid to call him back.

It rang twice. "Bella," He greeted. "Did I wake you?"

"No." I rubbed my forehead where it throbbed. A deep ache settled into my bones like I was coming down with the flu. A movie cuddling with Edward sounded like the _perfect_ day. Right after a cup of coffee and some aspirin. "You didn't."

"How was the party?"

"Interesting." I managed. "How's hunting?"

"We bagged one." He said excitedly. "A buck early this morning around four. We're taking it to Ralph's to bleed it and and skin it."

My stomach turned over the thought of blood and sinew of the local animal population of Northern Washington. "Are you going to be home for dinner?"

Charlie grunted. "No. Hank invited me over to watch the Steelers game at his place. I'll probably eat over there and come home later. You okay on your own?"

"Yeah," I looked at Edward. "I'll be okay. Is it cool if I go out later?"

"Yeah, Bells." He said. "Going over to the Blacks?"

"You got it."

"Say hi to Sarah and Billy for me."

"Will do."

We said our goodbyes and hung up. I sighed. I technically didn't lie to him, but I also didn't come out and say that Edward was over when he shouldn't be. I rubbed my throbbing head as I deliberated the morality of my decision. "He won't be home until after dinner." I said and continued to rub my head.

Edward shifted, taking off his mask, switching to the cannula and standing up. The cannula that connected him to the concentrator was really long so he could walk around with it. I rubbed my head, listening to him creak around the upstairs.

Suddenly two pills and a glass of water appeared in front of my eyes, held by Edward, who took a seat next to me on the bed and started rubbing my back. "The Rohypnol is going to make you achy." He explained. "You should probably should eat something too, to settle your stomach."

I downed the pills and the water. "I need a shower first."

"Why don't you do that," He suggested and leaned over to grab Lenny. "And I'll start breakfast?"

"Okay," I agreed and handed the glass back. "But, no Will Ferrell movies."

* * *

 _November 1, 2016_

I came downstairs after I showered, brushed my teeth, shaved my legs, and changed into something that wasn't hole-y and meant for bed. I grabbed the concentrator – which was _way_ heavy than it looked – before I descended the stairs. I couldn't see my feet as I gripped the blue contraption in front of me, so I clunked down slowly, one step at a time.

"Bella," Edward said in a scolding tone. "You didn't have to do that." I felt the concentrator being lifted from my arms.

"I didn't want you to use all of your tank oxygen." I explained as I watched him set it down its wheels and push it up against the wall.

The downstairs smelled like cooking bacon and fresh coffee and I wandered into the kitchen too that bacon was, in fact, cooking in Charlie's old cast iron and the coffee maker was going full blast, two coffee cups in front of it ready to accept its task of holding the fresh brew. I leaned against the counter next to it, waiting for it to finish.

Edward came in the kitchen all hooked up to his concentrator now. He had changed clothes and his hair was now in its proper place. He grabbed the tongs and flipped the bacon.

For a split second, I had a fantasy. A fantasy where Edward and I were married and this wasn't Charlie's house, this was our house and we were bathed in domestic bliss as Edward made us breakfast on a Sunday morning. I imagined us laughing over coffee, making grocery lists, doing laundry, wishing that Sunday didn't have to end and that we didn't have to go back to work the next day. I imagined us with a normal life.

 _That's not going to happen._ The voice said, grating on the back of my mind like nails on a chalkboard. _He won't live that long._

 _Fuck off, voice._ I said to myself. And that usually worked when my fear of time reared its ugly head. It didn't this time. A deep ache settled into the pit of my being. I wasn't going to have a life with Edward because his will end before he got to live it.

"…okay?"

I snapped out of my thoughts when I felt Edward press his hand to my face. I looked up to his concerned green eyes. "Are you okay?" He repeated, his green eyes shining with concern.

I reached up on my toes and kissed him in the middle of my kitchen, my arms wrapping around his waist and fingers bunching into his black band shirt. I turned him around and forced him against the counter, my hands moving to his face. I heard the coffee cups clatter as Edward's body pushed them over.

"Bella," He pulled away, his hands on my face. "Are you okay?"

"Why do you keep asking me that?" I demanded.

"Because you've gone pale." He said, his eyebrows pulling together, his hand running down my face. "And you're crying."

I rubbed my face and then crushed it into his Edward's sternum. I didn't want to lie to him, but I didn't want to tell the truth either. "I just…" I made a noise. "I just love you."

"I love you too." He rubbed my back.

I kissed him again, my hands moving all over him. If I couldn't have him ten years from now, then I wanted all of him _right now_.

"Bella," He pulled away again. "I'm cooking breakfast."

"Screw breakfast." I pulled him by his belt loops into the living room, clicking off the stove in the process.

I pushed him onto the couch and then climbed on top of his lap, connecting my mouths together again. I ran my hands up and under Edward's shirt, my fingertips running over familiar scars, savoring his heat in my hands and his chest. I started to push his shirt off of him, when he stopped me.

He pulled away, his breaths short and rapid. "Bella." He breathed, his eyebrows pulling together in concern.

"What's wrong?" I asked and pressed my lips to his collarbone.

He flushed red, his hand coming up to brush through my hair. "I've never done this before."

I pushed my hair back and smiled. "That's okay." I encouraged. "We can go slow."

I watched apprehension enter his eyes. "If you don't want to." I said hurriedly, not wanting to pressure him into anything. "We don't have to."

"I want to." He sighed. "I'm just…nervous."

"About what?" I said and put my head on his chest. My mother made it a point to reinforce that the key to a good sexual relationship was open and honest communication. As a someone who had a _very_ healthy sexual relationship, I decided to heed her wisdom.

"What you're going to see."

"Are somehow a satyr under your clothes and have been hiding hooves from me the whole two months we've been dating?"

He snorted. "No."

"Then there is literally nothing else that would keep me from taking you on this couch in a fit of lust and ecstasy." I sat back up and looked into his eyes. "I told you I love _all_ of you. Every part."

His eyes kaleidescoped emotions as he regarded me, his mouth opening like he wanted to say something. He closed it though and then he reached behind him and pulled off his shirt. His torso was covered in freckles. And scars. A lot of scar. And little black crosshairs in line down the right side of his rib cage.

I found the newer scar from his last hospital visit where they had the tube that drained the fluid around his lungs – paler than the rest of him with new flesh - letting my fingers coast across it.

"You can ask questions." He said as I inspected him. "If you want."

"Only if you're comfortable with it."

"Bella," He said. "You're the only other person besides my family that knows _everything."_ He breathed and his hand covered mine. "You're the only person I feel like I can be completely honest with."

I ran my fingers over the scar under his collarbone. It was a couple centimeters across, but thick.

"Central line." He explained. "It's like a permanent IV port when I was getting cancer treatments. Saves my arms from needle sticks."

I kissed it and then moved my hand to the scar on his neck, under his adam's apple.

"Tracheostomy." He breathed. "A tube that was hooked up to a machine that breathed for me when my lungs weren't up to task."

I pressed my lips to it, feeling the thrum of his pulse quicken. My hand moved to a little scar on his belly.

"Stomach tube." He said. "Where I got food while I was on the trache."

I ran my fingers down the little crosshairs.

"Tattoos."

"You have tattoos?" I pulled away to look at them. "Gnarly."

He grinned. "They were for radiation therapy, so they knew where to line up the laser."

I kissed them, all three of them, and then I fingered the large scar under his left pectoral. The one he pressed his hand to when he was struggling to breath. It was the largest of the bunch – about as long as my pointer finger - and dark purple like grape jam.

"My surgical scar." He said. "They went in and resected one of the tumors from my lungs." He made a triangle shape with his hands.

"Does it hurt?"

"The scar doesn't." He said. "But, when I overdo it, my mangle lung hurts on the inside. He absently fingered it. "The left one is in worse shape the right one."

I moved and gently pressed my lips to it. "I love it."

"My scar?"

"Yes." I ran my finger over it. "It's apart of you, so I love it." I moved back to his face. "All of your scars. And your tattoos." I looked into his eyes my fingers running through his hair. "I just love you." I repeated.

He kissed me, all inhibitions abandoned. I realized that Edward was a fortress, wall after wall built to protect himself from the outside world that only saw sickness and disease, that looked at him like he was something to fix. And it was up to me to tear them all down, to find the boy underneath. The boy I loved.

I pulled off my shirt and then reached behind me and unclasped my bra. I felt him gasp slightly as his eyes took me all in, zeroing in my stomach.

"You have a scar too." He said, his fingers tracing over my abs.

"I had my appendix taken out when I was eleven." I explained. "I think I've been in a hospital as a patient twice. The first time was when I was born."

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to it and then smiled up at me. "I love it." He kissed me and I kissed him back. I felt his erection through his jeans and moved my hands to undo his belt. He hooked my fingers in the hem of my shorts and pulled them off.

We made love on Charlie's couch. Edward's arm wrapped around my waist, the other exploring my body and one hand of mine weaved into his hair the other on his surgical scar. It wasn't perfect. We had to completely stop three times so Edward could catch his breath. I accidentally got my hand caught up in his tubing and almost ripped it from around his ears and when he got on top, he almost kneed me in the stomach.

But, it _was_ perfect, because it was us – two tangled bodies, two hearts intertwined – perfectly imperfect in love.

* * *

 _November 1, 2016_

Edward was grinning at me – this gigantic, cheesy smile that stretched from ear-to-ear – his arms crossed smugly. _You would be pleased with yourself._ I rolled my eyes at him.

"I'm not going to say it." I shook my head.

"You don't lie." He pointed out.

"But, I don't have to say it."

"You can just admit it," Edward prompted. "Your secret is safe with me."

"I'm not going to." I said stubbornly.

We had spent the last hour and fifty-three minutes watching _Stranger than Fiction_. I saw why Edward liked it. It was quirky and intelligent and gentle. Just like him. I liked it too, because of those aforementioned reasons.

But, it starred Will Ferrell. And Edward was more than ready to rub it in my face that he found a movie starring my least favorite actor that I liked.

I tore my eyes from his brilliant smile and his gorgeous eyes to the abandoned breakfast dishes strewn on the coffee table. We were basking in post-sex euphoria on the couch when my stomach embarrassingly made itself known and we decided to finish making breakfast.

I stood up and gathered them and moved to the kitchen to clear the evidence that there were two people dining out of my kitchen this morning instead only one. I had decided that I wouldn't lie to Charlie if he asked, but I wasn't going to volunteer that Edward was here.

I heard Edward get up too and follow me into the kitchen. His arms wrapped around my waist and I felt his nose on my shoulder as I started the sink.

"Rubbing me up isn't going to make me admit that I liked that movie." I said as I scrubbed the dishes.

"I think you just did." I felt him smile against me, but it faded. "I should probably get home soon." He said quietly.

"Dine and dashing so soon?" I tried to keep my voice light, but I started violently scrubbing the dish in my hand at the thought of him leaving.

"I probably gave my mom an aneurysm this morning." He sighed. "I'm going to be grounded until I'm thirty."

 _He's not going to make it there._

I winced with the voice and started scrubbing harder on the dish I was holding. I started coming up with ways to prolong this day. I wished I could just hit the stop button on time. Freeze us both here and now - in the middle of Charlie's worn kitchen with the faded yellow cabinets and well-loved appliances. His arms around my waist and his cheek on my shoulder.

Something popped into my head. An idea. "How much more oxygen in your tank do you have?"

"About three hours." He answered. "Why?"

"I'll take you home." I smiled. "But, we're going to make a pit stop first."

* * *

 _November 1, 2016_

"Where are we?" Edward said as he came around the front of Earl, dragging Lenny behind him, his eyes scanning around as he zipped his hoodie

"For a Washington native, I'm surprised you don't know more of your own home state." I said and hopped out of the cab, jamming the blanket I grabbed under my arm.

"Well, a good chunk of my life was spent in a hospital." He glanced around.

I sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. I had to admit, Washington did a good job when it came to the 'forests' thing. This one in particular was my favorite. I had found it after going exploring – a small beaten road that led to a gate with NO TRESPASSING sign.

I glanced at the sky, at the sun that was starting to break through the clouds. It helped that it was sunny. It wasn't _warm_ , being November and all, but it was sunny.

I started heading into the forest, Edward on my heels.

"We're not _hiking_ , are we?" Edward asked, his eyes incredulous. "Bella, I barely make it over flat surfaces."

"It's like thirty yards that way." I pointed westward and then bent over and picked up Lenny, since his already squeaky wheels weren't going to make it going over rough terrain. I hooked my fingers into its axle and the other gripped around its handle. "And we'll go slow."

We moved incredibly slow, with me holding the weight of Lenny – which was about fifteen pounds altogether – and with Edward who had to stop a lot to catch his breath.

It took me fifteen minutes to find the place I was headed to the last time I was here. With Edward, it took an hour. I didn't mind, though. I liked being able to listen to the birds above our head and looked at the trees. Edward forced me to slow down and appreciate the beauties of the world more. To enjoy the ride _and_ the destination.

Edward didn't see it that way.

"You're making me hike." He grumbled as he used my shoulder to lean on to step high over a root.

"I am not." I argued. "I'm making you," I took in a deep breath. "Enjoy nature."

He grunted as we stepped through more trees. "Nature shmat-," He sucked in a gasp, his eyes widening. "Oh."

We emerged into the clearing that was perfectly round. The haloing trees were different shades of orange and red and green and yellow, blending together in a lovely rainbow of fall hues. The grass was tall and green and swayed in the breeze and the sun above cut thick, shafts of light through the canopy of trees. It was an ethereal place. A place of fairytales. A place that you imagined heaven looking like.

I put Lenny down and Edward grabbed the handle and pulled it into the clearing, right into one of the columns of light. He tipped his head up and I could see his jeweled eyes sparkle. "This is cool." He smiled.

"I _told_ you." I said.

I came into the clearing too and spread out the blanket on the ground next to where Edward was standing and sat down. _The grass is even dry._ I thought, pleased. _Thanks universe._

Edward sat down next to me, parking Lenny at the edge of the blanket. "Why here?"

I shrugged. "I didn't want to give you up yet."

He held up his hand in the light and I watched all of his freckles pop out. "So you're kidnapping me to the forest?"

I pitched myself onto his lap, my fingers lacing around his neck. "Maybe I'm actually a serial killer who lured you out here to kill you and hide the body."

He grinned back. "Maybe you brought me out here to sacrifice me to the dark gods on your makeshift alter."

"Maybe I'm a monster and I'm going to eat you." I put my lips to his neck like I was going to bite him like a vampire and then blew a raspberry, causing him to laugh.

He fell backwards on the blanket as he laughed while I tickled him, blowing raspberries all over his neck. "No, no." He begged and tried to grab my wrists. "I submit. I submit."

"Torture is part of the sacrifice." I said and ran my fingertips over his ribs.

"I can't be a sacrifice anymore." He argued as I slipped my hands up under his t-shirt to run my fingers over his bare skin. "I'm not a virgin anymore."

"Maybe I'll just keep you for myself then." I smiled.

"Only as long-," His sentence cut off and he started to cough, his eyes sharpening with pain. I rolled off of him and pulled him up by the hand to a sitting position. "I'm…okay." He said between chesty coughs. "Stupid lungs."

I waited for him to catch his breath, which he did once he got control enough to inhale through his nose and out of his mouth. Coughing had worried me in the beginning, but he got himself I swirled my finger on the blanket, watching the material move around on my finger.

"Sorry 'bout that." He said, his cough ceasing.

I looked up into his face, into his shiny green eyes that I always got lost in to tell him that he didn't have to apologize over something he couldn't control. But, something caught my attention before I could say anything.

I watched a drip of red forced itself out of Edward's right nostril, staining his cannula and dripping down onto his lip.

Then I smelled it. Blood smelled like the inside of a copper mine and for some reason it always rolled my stomach over. And watching it, _knowing_ what it smelled like made the stomach rolling turn into stomach flipping. I felt my lips disappear into my mouth as I held my breath.

"You have a nosebleed." I squeaked.

His fingers flew to his face and he removed his cannula, another drip following the first. I felt nauseous as I watched it blaze its maroon path down Edward's face.

I took a tiny breath and the smell hit me again and I felt faint, the fall colors starting to swirl around me. "I going to stand over there." I pointed and scrambled to my feet to get upwind.

"You don't like blood?" He asked and picked up the edge of his hoodie and wiped his face.

"The smell," I explained as I watched him clean himself up from about fifteen feet away. "Weirds me out."

He smiled as he cleaned the nub of his cannula. "Are you sure you're not a vampire?"

"I think vampirism makes you _attracted_ to blood." I crossed my arms. "I am very _unattracted_ to blood."

"I think you're good." He said once he reaffixed his tubing to his face and I took my place next to him on the blanket. "Sorry. The oxygen is dry and it makes the insides of my nostrils crack."

"It's okay." I said as my stomach resettled. "It's a stupid phobia anyway."

"Well, mine's spiders." He said, his eyes dropping and his face blushing. "I guess we all have our thing."

"Where were we?" I asked, eager to get off this subject.

"I think we were discussing you kidnapping me?" Edward grinned.

"Ah, yes." I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his, watching his emerald eyes effervesce in the sunlight. "Kidnapping. Of course."

* * *

 **Soft uwu chapter; Review if like**

 **Now get ready to be smashed with the hard hammer of emotional turmoil**


	17. Chapter 17

_Edward_

 _November 23, 2016_

"I'm not giving out homework over Thanksgiving break, but if you guys are proactive," Mr. Carter said. "You would start on chapter eleven outlined in your syllabus, since we are starting a new unit next week…"

I was vaguely aware of Bella's hand on my knee, her thumb running circles over it as we both listened Mr. Carter basically tell us that he wasn't giving us homework but we had homework anyway over Thanksgiving weekend.

My eyes weren't on my teacher, though. They were trained on my left arm, specifically on a bruise in the shape of North Carolina. It wasn't very big – half-dollar sized, maybe – and was varying shades of purple and red. It stretched from the inside of my wrist - from where I would wear a watch if I had one - to the hem of my sweater.

Bruises were marks of trauma. Injury caused by an impact of some sort. Usually.

And when I got bruises, I always knew exactly how I got it. The one on my shoulder was from I jammed it into the doorframe. Or I caught my hip on the corner of the table. Or tripped over my concentrator tubing.

I always had an explanation for the bruises that I got. Because, unexplained bruising - bruising that just showed up with any sort of external impact - was a symptom of a clinical relapse of leukemia.

I had found it this morning in Chemistry when I had to pull the sleeves of my hoodie up to put on gloves for our experiment. I glanced at it, registered its existence, and then paid it no mind and went on with the period.

But in second period, when I found it again, I tried to remember how I got it. But, I couldn't remember what happened to cause this one. I had spent the whole day staring at it, wracking my brain of how I could've possibly bruised the _inside_ of my wrist.

I squinted at it, watching it blur with my white skin. _Where did you come from?_ I couldn't remember. I was drawing a gigantic blank.

I felt my eyebrows furrow as I glanced at the white board. I started cataloging the other symptoms of AML. My first symptom was always fatigue. But, I was in a constant state of fatigue with my lungs. So, that was unspecific.

 _Had I had any nosebleeds lately?_ Yes. But, that could also just mean my cannula was drying out the inside of my nostrils.

I ran my lip through my teeth. _Night sweats?_ Hard no. I hadn't had any night sweats. I glanced at the bruise again. And I hadn't felt feverish. _It's probably nothing._

But, what if it wasn't?

I pressed my thumb into the bruise, feeling the loop of anxiety lace through me and flip my intestines like double-dutch ropes. I was almost at the three-year mark from when I first started developing symptoms of my last go-around with cancer. And it did have a knack for showing up at the _worst_ possible times.

 _This couldn't be happening._

"…ready?"

I glanced over at Bella, whose brown eyes were looking at me expectantly. "What?"

"The bell rang." She said and stood up. "You ready?"

I looked around to see that everyone else had packed up their stuff and were moving to their last period. "Yeah." I said and stood up, replacing the sleeve of my hoodie. "Ready."

I walked with Bella to gym, since sixth period was a free period for me. _It's probably nothing._ I tried to convince myself again. _You've been in remission for years._

My eyebrows furrowed as my stomach rolled again, my heart pounding in my chest. The last time I tried to convince myself it was nothing, it ended up being something and that something spread into my lungs and ruined my life.

"You okay?" Bella asked as we walked alongside each other on the sidewalk.

I nodded and refocused on breathing. "I'mexcited," I inhaled. "forbreak."

"Me too." Bella's eyes flashed and she smiled, her hand clasping with mine. "I've been a _machine_ in the kitchen these past couple of days. I swear I've literally dreamt of making pie crust last night."

We were celebrating Thanksgiving together. We were inviting the Swans. We always invited Charlie over every year. But, this year it was extra special because Bella and I were dating.

I looked at Bella. She was wearing a large, patterned sweater that looked like it had been pulled from the back of Bill Cosby's closet and a pair of black leggings with her well-loved boots. I looked at the tiny details of her face – the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, her small nose, her windblown lips _. My sun._

 _This honestly couldn't be happening._ I thought, my breathing hitching. It couldn't be. The universe couldn't be that cruel, right? It couldn't give me a glimpse of the sunshine, a breath of fresh spring air and then ruin it with a tornado, right? They couldn't bless me in one second and then rip it away the next, right?

 _Right?_

"Edward."

I heard my name and looked down at Bella, who had stopped on the pathway that connected the Lit building to the gym and cafeteria. I didn't even realize that we had stopped moving. "I'm sorry?"

"Is everything okay?" She ran her fingers up and down my arm, her eyes wide with concern. "You've been walking around like a zombie all day. It's worrying me."

"I'm okay." I smiled after I caught my breath. "I'm just tired."

"You should take a nap or something during your free period." She dug in her backpack and pulled out her car keys and tried to hand them to me.

"I'm okay." I declined them. "I think this zombie will just go to the library and feast on the brains of the curious and philosophical."

She smiled at my joke. "The library is a good place to go for that. The brains are bigger. More nutrients."

She reached up on her toes and kissed me before turning and heading into the gym. I watched her disappear behind the large, red double doors. I glanced at my bruise again. It sat there, _mocking_ me. _I could be nothing._ It said. _Or I could be a sign that your normal school year is over._

I pulled out my cell phone and flipped it around in my hand as I stood in the middle of the empty sidewalk, debating on whether or not I wanted to bug Jacob about my worries, going back and forth between _it's nothing_ and _but what if it's something?_

I glanced at the bruise again, feeling the first couple drops of rain on my head and shoulders. _I could be nothing._ It said. _Or I could be a sign that a monster is living under your skin._

I moved to the empty library when it started to drizzle rain, sinking into one of the little tables and chairs that were peppered around the shelves of books for studying at. I continued to stare at the bruise.

 _I could be nothing._ It said. _Or I could be a sign that you have cancer._

The last time I got cancer, I tried to deny its existence. I tried to persuade myself that it was nothing and that I was fine. The bruising was just me playing to rough. The night sweats were just nightmares. The blood I was coughing up was normal. Everything was fine.

That I was fine.

I finally broke down and texted him. I needed the help. I needed my brother.

 **I found a weird bruise and it's freaking me out.**

He texted a couple of moments later.

 **Where are you?**

 **Library.**

I sat and waited for him, letting the nerves jumble up my insides. _If this was my only bruise,_ I thought as I focused on inhaling in through my nose and out of my mouth. _then it's probably nothing._ I got to my feet and dragged Lenny into the boys' bathroom.

I glanced at the bottoms of the stalls, confirming that I was alone and then removed my hoodie and jammed it between the tank and the handle of Lenny. I took off the tubing around my face and then removed my t-shirt that I was wearing over a black thermal.

I replaced Lenny and lifted my shirt, inspecting my scarred chest in the mirror. _No bruises._ A small wave of relief washed over me. _It's nothing._ I turned in the mirror, trying to get different angles in the light for examination.

Something caught my eye. A shadow on the back part of my torso. I lifted my shirt higher and twisted so I could see it in the reflection.

I followed the shadow to another one and another one and another one. Lines of bruising on my back, like spots on a Dalmatian. Like a chain of islands in the Pacific. There was no reasonable justification for them. I couldn't rationalize these with a story of mild trauma. There was only one possible explanation for them.

The cancer was back.

 _This couldn't be fucking happening._

Something shattered in my soul. A tsunami washed over me, a wave of grief and despair. _I can't have cancer again_. This was a nightmare. It had to be. _It had to be_. My knees gave out and my fingers found the smooth porcelain of the sink before I sunk to the floor.

I started to drown under the weight of what this meant settled into me, tears hot on my face. I'd have to go back to the hospital. I'd have to go through chemo again. Infections. I'll be behind in school again. I'll lose all my hair again. I'll be gross and puke-y again. I'll have to wear a surgical mask in public again. _I could almost die again._

 _This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be fucking happening._

I heard the bathroom door crash open. "Edboy?"

I didn't move, though. Or look at Jacob when I heard his boots squeak on the tile. I just gripped my knees as the wave washed over me again, trembling and sobbing on the floor of this gross high school men's room.

"Edward," He breathed. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"My back." I choked. "They're all on my back."

I felt my shirt pull up as Jacob inspected me. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and something inside of me wilted. _It's worse than it looks._ I was hoping that I was hallucinating or something. That all of this was a joke. _Look! It's just dirt. Rubs right off. See?_

I felt his gigantic arm around my shoulder. "Shh. It's okay." He hushed. "Shh."

I pressed my face against his jacket, the wave of panic churning up my insides. "I want to go home." I sobbed against his shoulder. "I want to go home."

"Okay," He said. "I'll take you home. Shhh."

The tears morphed into coughing, my lungs obviously finished with my fit of self-pity. _Bastards_. I hacked hard against my fist, Jacob rubbing my shoulder. I felt better knowing he was here with me this time around. The last time, I kept it solely to myself and I felt so isolated and alone. I sniffed and rubbed my face. "What am I going to do?" I whispered as I tried to suppress the coughing.

"You're going to fight it." He answered, the 'duh' implied in his tone.

 _But, what if I'm not strong enough?_

We lapsed into silence. I focused on inhaling and exhaling. I focused on Jacob's fingers rubbing up and down my shoulder. I focused on the faucet that was dripping behind me. I forced myself to focus on the here and now instead of the fact

"Can I ask a favor?" I started.

"Sure, Edboy."

"Can we wait until after thanksgiving to tell Mom and Dad?"

His rubbing froze. " _Edward_." He groaned.

"I'm not trying to hide it." I defended quickly. "I just want a nice holiday before cancer ruins everything all over again." I looked at Jacob's face.

I watched his eyes flash and his lips twist into a lopsided pout. He finally sighed and nodded. "Yeah. I'll keep it to myself." He sucked in a breath. "But, you are telling them Friday. Deal?"

My eyebrows furrowed and I put my chin on my knees. If I was in a full-blown clinical relapse, then I they would take me right to Port Angeles and admit me to start induction therapy.

I'd have to tell Bella. I choked with a sob again, my hand flying to my face. _She's going to be devastated._

Jacob shook me slightly. "I'll be right there, okay?"

I nodded and sucked in another ragged breath. "Thank you." I whispered as another wave threatened to suck me to the bottom of the ocean.

* * *

 _November 24, 2016_

 _Bella and I were standing hand-in-hand on the edge of a cliff, the Pacific churning below us. There was a storm rolling in on the horizon, turning the sky an ominous shade of gray. Every couple of seconds a crack of lightning would tear through the sky and a roll of thunder would shake the earth._

 _The wind picked up, blowing my hair in my eyes and Bella's hair blew in the wind too. I watched the waves turn violent, crashing loudly against the cliff._

 _"_ _Can we survive this?" Bella asked, her hand attempting to hold her hair back._

 _I shook my head as I watched the wind pick up, threatening to blow us off the edge. "I don't know." I whispered back, watching a blue bolt of lightning split the sky above us._

I woke up staring at the picture of Bella I had replaced the picture of Hayley Williams with, affixed with Scotch tape to the black metal rungs of Jacob's bunk. My breaths came in heavy and hard, my lungs protesting against the exertion in my chest, and I could feel my sheets balled around my knees. _Just a dream._

My hand went to my head and I could feel the heavy layer of moisture soaking through my hairline into my hair. _Gross._ I sat up in bed, watching the beads of sweat drip down from my face and hit my lap. My shirt was soaked through like I had run a couple of miles on the surface of the sun.

I took off my mask and wiped my face with my sleeve, smelling thanksgiving already cooking in the kitchen even though it was only – I picked up my cell phone – 9:02 in the morning.

A new bruise bloomed on my arm. This one was in the shape of France and covered my upper forearm in varying shades of violet purple. I sighed. The scene where Jack Nicholson's screaming _"Here's Johnny!"_ popped into mind. Except it wasn't Jack Nicholson, it was an ugly-ass monster screaming. _"Here's Cancer!"_

 _Just give me a good Thanksgiving._ I bartered to the higher power that decided that cancer seemed like a fitting punishment for all of my unnamed sins. _And then you can make me miserable._

I put on my cannula when my lungs started to notice the extra oxygen was missing and rubbed the sleepies out of my eye, checking my phone and then started to get up.

"Edboy," Jake bounced in the room when I was at the closet, picking out clothes for the day. He skidded to a stop his eyes widening when took me all in. "Night sweats?"

I nodded solemnly. "Yeah, they just started last night. What's up?"

"I came to get you for the parade."

"I'm gonna shower first."

He stepped closer. "Mom's worried because you didn't eat dinner last night." He whispered. "She has her cancer-sniffing bloodhound nose on. Beware, okay?"

I rolled my eyes and groaned. "Great." That's just what I needed. Mom to be extra-vigilant looking for cancer on the day that I actually had cancer and wanted her not to notice.

I shuffled to the bathroom and showered, taking my time getting ready. Luckily, since it was wintertime, I could get away with wearing a hoodie and jeans indoors without it raising eyebrows. I brushed my teeth and took my meds. _Much help you did._ I thought sardonically as I chased the bitter pills down with water.

Jacob and Dad were on the couch, their eyes wide on the television. _Football must've started._ Jacob just handed me my cannula without even looking at me when I went to get it. I put it on and inhaled deep breaths. "Who's playing?" I asked.

"Steelers and the Cowboys."

I moved to the kitchen. "Happy thanksgiving." I greeted. Mom had her old apron on and was working on peeling potatoes over the sink. I came up next to her and splashed some coffee in a cup and moved to the fridge to put some eggnog into it.

"Happy thanksgiving, baby." She reached up on her toes to kiss me on the cheek. I held my breath. I had taken my temperature in the bathroom and was running a tiny fever. I hoped she didn't notice. "You take your meds?"

"Yep." I said. "Smells good in here. Can I help with anything?"

"You sure can." She smiled. "You want to take over potatoes? I'm going to start the green bean casserole."

I washed my hands and picked up our elderly peeler and started skinning the dark brown off the potatoes in long strips over a bowl in the sink. Mom worked on snapping the ends off the green beans next in the other compartment. We worked in silence. I watched my mother's hands work quick and skilled, while mine were awkward and I accidentally peel my thumb a couple of times.

"You feelin' alright?" My mother asked after a moment, her black eyes snapping to me.

I inhaled a deep breath.

For a split second, I wondered how Bella would've responded. Bella was very against moral ambiguity. To her, there was a right and a wrong way to go about doing things. Black and white. And she didn't like to lie, if she could help it. When people asked for her view, she always precursored her responses with 'Do you want my actual opinion or the one you want to hear?'

 _No, I haven't._ She would've responded. _Actually, I'm pretty certain the AML is back, but I didn't want to ruin thanksgiving, so I've kept it to myself._

I, on the other hand, was not against lying if it meant I could push the hard conversation off for a different time.

"Yeah," I said, forcing my smile on my face. "I'm fine."

"You look tired." She commented as she moved to a different part of the counter and mixed the green beans in casserole dish with a couple of cans of cream of mushroom soup. "You've been getting enough sleep, right?"

"Yes, Mom." I groaned as I finished the potatoes.

"Put those in the big pot." She said and pointed to the stove and I moved like I was instructed, dropping potatoes into the waiting water.

"Dude," Jacob burst into the kitchen and bee-lined for the fridge. "Roethlisberger is a freaking machine."

"Why is your brother in here helping me and you're not, mister?" My mother asked.

"Because Edward is better at stuff like this." He pulled a soda out and watched me dump the rest of the peeled potatoes into the water. "Don't make the potatoes too creamy." He instructed. "I like my mashed potatoes like I like my girls – extra thick."

"Jacob," Mom groaned. "Don't say stuff like that. It's gross."

A wave of fatigue washed over me and I gripped the counter as it weighed me down. "I think I'm going to go sit down." I announced as I fought through the fog.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay?" My mom regarded me with her analytical eyes, taking stock of me.

"Yeah, just a little tired." I said and shuffled out of the kitchen into the living room before the third degree started.

"You can help me with the sweet potatoes then, Jacob." I heard her say.

"But, _Mom_ ," He groaned. "The game is on."

I parked myself in the recliner, pulled my knees to my chest and watched the game with Dad, looping my pointer finger in my tubing. I got one play in before the exhaustion claimed me and fell asleep right as the Cowboys intercepted the ball.

* * *

 _November 24, 2016_

"Dinner time!" My mother sang from the kitchen.

I had woken up to greet Bella and Charlie when they arrived carrying side dishes and pies for dessert. Bella went to the kitchen to help Mom finish up dinner and I went back to the couch, feeling a flu-like ache settle into my limbs and neck.

I forced myself to stay awake, listening Dad and Charlie talk shop as small town municipal government employees, half-watching football – which had turned to some other game – and hoping that the achiness and the lethargy wasn't viral pneumonia, knowing full-well it was probably viral pneumonia.

Jacob burst in from the back door, his nose red from the chilly air and his football in his hand. "Dinner?"

"Yes," My mother said. "Please, _please_ wash your hands."

We settled into our respective seats, Bella taking Rachel's spot next to me and Charlie taking Rebecca's spot next to Jacob. Mom dropped the turkey off in front of my dad and Jacob violently jerked himself into a seat and started pulling side dishes towards himself.

"I'm so _freaking_ hungry and this all looks so good." Jacob said as he made a pile of food that rivalled Mount Everest on his plate. "I love thanksgiving."

"We have to say grace." Mom said pointedly.

"Why?" Jacob said. "We never say grace."

"Because it's thanksgiving and we have a lot to be thankful for." Mom said.

"Shouldn't we be the ones _receiving_ thanks since it was _us_ that helped the pilgrims on Plymouth Rock?" Jake muttered as he piled stuffing onto his plate. "You know, instead of _giving_ it."

Bella and I both snorted with laughter.

"Jacob Black, stop it." My mother's eyes flashed at him.

Jacob made a big show of sighing and rolling his eyes before engulfing Mom's hand in his. Mom grabbed my hand on her other side. Bella's fingers laced into mine.

"Lord, we are here to give thanks on this special day," My father started, his words rushed because he was as eager to dig into his food as Jacob was. He was just better at hiding it. "We're thankful for this beautiful meal that we can share with the people we are closest too. And may today serve as a reminder to give thanks everyday. Amen."

"Amen." Jacob added and then picked up his plate. "Dark meat, please."

"And we are thankful for Edward's two years into remission from cancer. What a blessing." My mother added at the end, her fingers squeezing mine.

I gulped.

I filled my plate with food I had no intentions of eating, since the ache and the fatigue zapped my appetite away. I pushed it around, hiding things in the potatoes so it looked like I was eating.

I felt heat on my skin and I looked over to see my mother's eyes on me. I stabbed some turkey into my mouth for show.

"Bella," My dad started. "Have you thought about colleges? You have to start applications soon, right?"

I felt her hand migrate to my knee. "I was thinking UW, maybe?"

Charlie shook his head. "Leave it to your boy to keep my desert flower daughter in the rain."

Dad and Charlie laughed.

"What about majors?"

"Oh, um…" Bella started and blushed.

I glanced at my mother, who was still watching me and made it a point to stuff some more food in my mouth. "This is good, Mom." I said quietly and kicked Jacob under the table. _Rise and shine, bro._ I broadcasted towards him.

"You're the best cook." Jacob said at my prompting as he shoveled food into his face. "Is there rosemary in the turkey? It's delicious."

Mom's eyes didn't tear from me, not even registering Jacob's existence. "Are you feeling well, Edward?"

Everyone's eyes snapped to me at the question. Charlie's and Bella's were wide. Dad regarded me with slight tightening. Jacob looked apologetic.

"Yes, Mom." I said defensively, feeling my cheeks heat up with blush at being the center of attention. "We've been over this."

Mom's fork clattered to her plate. "I swear to god, Edward, if you're lying to me-,"

"I'm _not_." I lied.

She stood up suddenly, her chair scraping against the linoleum and pressed her hands to my face. "You're running a fever." She accused, her eyes narrowing.

"I'm not," I repeated, but she was gone before I could come up with an excuse, powerwalking down the hallway towards my bedroom. I realized what she was doing a second too late.

"Mom," I groaned and got up, undoing the tubing around my face so I could follow her. My lungs sent a stab into my chest on my left side as I hurried down the hallway without oxygen, my breaths coming in short and shallow.

"Your pillow and sheets are soaked." She said, her black eyes flashing at me as she tore my bedding up and threw it on the ground.

"Oh-two." I wheezed and she handed me my cannula.

I breathed in and out for a moment after affixing the tubing to my face, and watched her turn and go to the hamper. She dug around for a moment until she found my t-shirt from this morning. She twisted it and I watched sweat drip to the floor. "This is soaked too."

"The heater gets cranked-," I started.

"Take off your shirt." She dropped the t-shirt and turned.

"Mom," I said, my tone desperate. "You're _ruining_ thanksgiving."

"Edward Anthony Black," She growled. "I said 'take off your shirt.'"

"What's going on?" My dad was at the door.

My mom just shook her head, her eyes hard as stone as she stared at me. I looked at them both and then removed my hoodie and then the t-shirt underneath, shivering against the draft on my bare skin. Mom's fingers grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. I heard her gasp. My dad looped around to stand next to my mother.

" _Edward_." My dad hissed.

"I was going to tell you." I said as rubbed the tears away on my face. "After thanksgiving."

She sucked in a ragged breath. "How long?" She said in a half-seething, half-incredulous whisper.

I spun around to face them. "Just yesterday. I swear." I pointed to the bruise on my arm. "I found this one and then I found the others on my back while I was at school."

She took a deep breath and laced her fingers in front of her face like she was trying to pray really hard, her black eyes solid. She regarded me for about twenty heartbeats. I just felt tears flow down my cheeks under the heat of her gaze "Pack a bag." She whispered.

"Mom," I choked out between sobs. "I don't want to go to the hospital tonight. We have Charlie and Bella over. _Please_ can we just wait until tomorrow morning? _Please_?"

"Pack a bag." She repeated. "Or I will call an ambulance and have them forcibly take you in."

" _Mom_." I cried. I felt the walls around me were tumbling down, like I was standing in the middle of an earthquake, and nobody could feel it but me. _This couldn't be happening right now._

"Sare," My dad put his hand on Mom's arm. "Dr. McCarty won't get to him until tomorrow. One day isn't going to do anything." He sucked in a breath. "It _is_ thanksgiving."

I watched my mother's nostrils flare as she contemplated his words, but then the fight hissed out of her. I watched her shoulders slump in defeat. "First thing tomorrow morning, then." She whispered and then embraced me. "We're going to fight this, baby. Okay?" She pulled away, her eyes shone with tears. "Okay?"

I nodded numbly. "Okay." I whispered back.

Dad patted my shoulder. "We'll get through this." He said with a nod before following my mother out the door.

I put my shirt back on and rubbed the tears from my face, trying to pull myself together before I went back out to face everyone, now the gigantic, pulsing elephant in the room. I turned to leave and found Bella staring at me with her wide eyes from the doorway. "Can I come in?" She whispered.

I nodded and she crossed the space between us. Her arms flew around me and I exhaled the breath I had been holding.

"Is everything okay?" She whispered against my chest.

 _No. Nothing's okay. Nothing's ever okay with me._ I felt the sobs come back, the floodgates open up. I shook my head. "No," I whispered and held her tighter. "It's back. The cancer's back."

* * *

 **Are we having fun, guys? How's the emotional turmoil? Scale of one to ten? Don't worry. It's only going to get worse!**

 **As always, enjoy & review pls!**


	18. Chapter 18

_Bella_

 _November 24, 2016_

I stared at my ceiling in the dark and listened to my heartbeat drum hard in my ears and tried to ignore the voice that had been repeating the same words at me for hours and hours.

 _Edward has cancer._

I sucked in a hard sob, feeling my chest contract hard as I fought the urge to cry. I couldn't cry. I was afraid if I started, I wouldn't be able to stop. I would drown in my sorrows. Sink into the darkness. I couldn't do that. I couldn't do that because in – I picked up my cell phone and clicked on the screen – five hours, I had to be back in La Push so I could accompany my boyfriend to the hospital.

 _Edward has cancer._

I couldn't tell the voice to fuck off this time around. It wasn't just a fear anymore. It was a real thing. A real monster that breathed on the backs of everyone's necks, that raised goosebumps on everyone's arms. It bloomed bruises on Edward's pale skin and zapped the life from his eyes. He said he would be okay. He said that he would go to the hospital and get treatments and that he would be fine. But it was the same as telling me that we'll have a safe landing while we were in the middle of a nosedive, plummeting to our doom. _How do you know? How does anyone know?_

 _Edward has cancer._

I rolled on my side and squeezed my eyes shut. It was like watching a car crash. I felt like I _was_ the car crash – the deer in the headlights. Frozen. Unable to run or scream. _What do I do?_

 _Edward has-_

 _Crack!_

I jumped at the sound of something hitting my window. It sounded like a bird crashed into it or something. My already pounding heart took off like jackhammer. I slid out of my bed to check to see if whatever hit it was okay.

I pulled up my blinds and peaked to see Edward standing in my front lawn with a flashlight in one hand. I quickly undid the lock and slid up the pane. "What are you doing?" I leaned over my window, the cold November air biting at my bare skin.

"But soft. What light through yonder window breaks?" Edward put a hand on his chest as he quoted Shakespeare at me.

"What are you _doing_?" I hissed at him again.

"It is the east, and Bella is the sun. Arise, fair sun and kill the envious moon. Who is already sick and pale-,"

" _Edward_!" I shouted at him, thankful that Charlie had to work the night shift and was on patrol this evening. I heard a bird react to my voice and flap out of the surrounding forest, protesting the whole time.

He laughed his breathy laugh. "Can I come in?"

"Yes. Meet me at the front door." I pointed and slammed my window shut. _What was he doing here?_

I hurried down the stairs, taking them two at a time. I skidded around the corner in my socks and rushed to the front entryway, almost tripping in the process. I threw open the front door to Edward - who was still giggling at me – grabbed his hand and yanked him inside.

"Edward," I said as I slammed the door. "Why aren't you at home in bed?"

His eyes widened. "I came to see you."

I took stock of him, letting my eyes wander all over his body. He was wearing his jacket and instead of Lenny, he had a mini-tank in a small bag that had a black strap that hung across his torso. I watched his hands come up to cup my face.

"You should be resting." I said.

He shrugged. "I couldn't sleep."

"How did you even get here?"

"I snuck out." He dropped his hands and moved to the couch and sat down. "I took my car."

"You snuck out of your house a day before you're supposed to go to the hospital for cancer treatments and you took your car alone on a permit without an adult in the passenger seat?" I asked in stark disbelief.

He grinned and took off the oxygen bag and then his jacket "Let's just say…I'm feeling a little reckless."

" _Edward_ ," I groaned and sat down next to him, feeling a tension headache settle behind my eyes and throb in my temples. He looped his arm around me, and I snuggled against his chest. At least, when he was here with me, the voice shut the hell up. _That was something._ "This isn't reckless. This is stupid."

"Maybe," He ran his fingers up and down my arm. "But, I feel like I can get away with it this time around. Did I wake you?"

"No," I said honestly. "I couldn't sleep."

I felt a cheek press to my head and his arms grow tighter. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "Cancer literally fucks every-,"

"Can we not," I felt the tears come again, the dam start to crack. "Can we not talk about cancer?"

"Okay," He agreed.

We lapsed into silence. I listened to Edward's heartbeat, reveling them. Counting them like they were blessings. He rubbed his fingertips on my arm, his nose breathing in my hair.

"I do have one question." He finally broke the silence.

"Okay."

"Will you still love me even when I lose all of my hair?"

I pulled away to see if he was joking, but his eyes were hard like the jewels they rivaled. "Are you being serious right now?" I squinted at him.

"Yes."

"Edward, if it makes you feel better, I'll shave my head for you." I rolled my eyes. _What a loon._

He choked out a laugh, his grin on his. "Please, _please_ don't do that." His fingers brushed my long hair off of my shoulder. "I love your hair." He sucked in a breath, his eyes softening. "I love you."

"I love you too."

We kissed, long and slow at first. Passion and affection and apprehension flavoring the kiss bittersweet. I felt Edward's hands on my back slide down and then up and under my shirt and he dragged his hands all over my body. His fingertips grazed up my breasts and I felt a rush of blood bloom my body with heat.

"Edward." I pulled away, butterflies in my stomach. I wanted him, but I didn't want to hurt him. I searched his eyes for pain, finding only soft adoration and maybe a little bit of desperation.

"It's okay." He whispered, his breaths ragged. "Please, Bella." He shook his head. "I won't be able to…for a little bit…after…" His eyes dropped and he sucked in a breath.

"Are you-,"

He pressed me close to him. "Bella," He sobbed into my shoulder. "I can't believe it's back. I can't." He shook his head as he clung to me. "I can't."

I froze at the unexpected mood swing, but recovered and wrapped my arms around him. "Edward," I breathed, my hand rubbing up and down between his shoulder blades. "It's going to be okay." My voice sounded hollow in my own ears.

 _Edward has cancer._

I scowled at the voice in my head, fire igniting in my chest. Yes, he does. He also had the resolution of a brick house. A golden sense of humor. So many talents, I couldn't even begin to count them. Enough love to light up the night sky like the aurora borealis with it. Intelligence. Charm. Strength.

And he had _me_.

I banished the voice. Forever. It wasn't allowed around here anymore. _Fuck it._ I thought. _I can be strong enough for the two of us. I can be anything he needed me to be._

"Hey," I said and pulled back, my fingers moving to his face to rub the tears away. "It's going to be _okay_."

"I just wanted to have a normal school year." He sniffed, his eyes glassy.

"I know." I rubbed his arm. "I'll tell you what you're going to do, okay?"

His eyes snapped to me. "What's that?"

"You're going to go to the hospital, kick cancer's ass and then come back and graduate valedictorian of the Forks High School class of twenty-seventeen."

He choked out a strangled laugh. "These are tough goals."

"I wouldn't give them to you if I didn't you can handle them."

His forehead touched mine and our fingers tangled together. "I can't do it without you." He whispered.

"It's a good thing you have me every step of the way, then." I whispered back.

We made love. Time seemed to stop when our bodies found each other. The seconds ceased their ticking _._ The moments that we seemed to chase, stopped evading us. The world that spun around us, momentarily stopped its rotation. Our pathway around the sun halted. It was just us.

Us and the love that bound us together.

* * *

 _November 25, 2016_

I never really gave any thought to what afterlife was supposed to look like. I didn't really believe that we hung out on clouds playing the harp all day long, as what the stereotype was when it came to the picture of heaven. I liked the Mormon ideology's idea that we would all be kings, ruling over of our own planet. Or the seventy-two virgins proposed by the Muslim faith.

I just assumed hell was a fiery inferno. Brimstone, that sort of thing. However, I figured out pretty quick that my hell was a hospital waiting room, listening to the ticking clock, sitting on uncomfortable, slightly padded gray chairs, while HGTV played from a fuzzy television on a loop.

I tapped my fingertips on my bare knees that poked through the holes of my jeans, which I had pulled to my chest as I tried to focus on the the happy couple on the screen as they showed off their recently renovated house.

Jacob shifted around next to me, unable to get into a comfortable position, his legs switching being completely stretched out in front of him to pulled under his chair. Mrs. Black tried to read a novel she brought with her, but she hadn't turned the page in twenty minutes. His father sipped his coffee out of a foam cup and watched television with me, his black eyes blank.

We had arrived at the Olympic Medical Center's ER at 7:43 this morning. Edward had checked in, been triaged and then taken back by 8:34. He was moved to the pediatric floor by 10:12. Now, he was having a bone marrow biopsy and we had all been kicked out to the waiting room.

I glanced at the clock. 12:28. I scowled. _Goddammit._ I urged the clock. _Move faster._

I had banished the voice, but the apprehension was still there. There wasn't really any doubt in anyone's mind that the leukemia was back. Now it was the tests to see if it had spread and if it did, how far.

"Mom and Dad Black?" We all snapped up to a sugar-blonde woman in scrubs with cartoon puppies on them.

"That's us." Mrs. Black shut her book without marking her place.

"I'm Kate, I'm the charge nurse on duty at the moment." She took a gray seat next to Mrs. Black, and opened a chart. "The biopsy went well. Edward's been moved to recovery as we get him off of anesthesia. We're going to start him on a round of antibiotics, since the chest x-ray showed the beginnings of pneumonia. Is he allergic to anything?"

Mrs. Black shook her head. "No."

"Great." Kate marked that down on her binder that swung up, hamburger-style instead of over, hotdog-style.

"No intubation." Mrs. Black said, her voice stern. "HFT only."

"No, no." Kate shook her head. "Edward's holding steady at…" She flipped a page. "Ninety-three percent. No worries about that at all."

"Okay good."

"Has he been complaining recently about back pain?" The nurse demonstrated on herself by motioning to right behind her ribcage.

Mrs. Black's eyes flashed with confusion. "No. Why?"

"We've found some proteins in his urine that maybe a sign of some kidney troubles." The nurse said in a soothing voice. "Nothing to worry about at the moment, just thought I'd ask."

"Can we see him soon?" I piped up.

Kate smiled at me. "You're Bella, right?"

I nodded, feeling my cheeks flush.

"Edward made it a point to let us know that if we keep Bella from seeing him that he would take every pill given to him and flush them down the toilet." She chuckled and stood up. "I promise we'll come and get you guys once we get him moved back to his room." She closed her chart and moved back behind the door where they were keeping Edward.

I glanced at the clock. 12:37. I sighed and let my head fall back on my chair. _This is torturous._

"Do you think they have the remote at the counter so I could check ESPN?" Mr. Black asked absently before taking another sip of coffee.

* * *

 _November 26, 2016_

"Come on Bruins!"

"Jacob," Mrs. Black hissed. "You're going to wake Edward."

"'m not asleep." Edward murmured, his nose delicately scrunching and his arm around me tightening.

I ran my fingers through his tousled hair as he snoozed against my collarbone. Edward had been a patient at Olympic for about thirty-two hours now. After a day of of what felt like every test they could order, we were finally able to see Edward for all of thirty minutes until the nurse kicked everyone that wasn't staying overnight out.

I didn't want to go home to lay awake in my empty house so I posted up with Jacob in his favorite, tiny waiting room. I changed clothes and brushed my teeth in the public restroom and bought coffee and a cellophaned muffin from the cafeteria and sat with Jacob and Mr. Black and every other glass-eyed loved one as we all ate in silence.

Now we were all gathered in Edward's small hospital room waiting for consults to tell us what was wrong with Edward and how they were going to fix him.

"Dude," Jacob muted the television he was standing in front of and cocked his head. "Do you hear that?"

I cocked my head too and heard the soft taps of heels on tile flooring. They grew louder as they approached.

"Dr. Hot?" Edward asked without evening opening his eyes.

The biggest grin stretched over Jacob's face, his teeth brilliant against his dark skin and blue Seahawks jersey. "Dr. Hot." He fistpumped.

Edward sighed and shifted, opening his eyes and wincing. The biopsy gave him a nice big bruise right under his butt cheek and it apparently hurt to sit on. He gently laced his hand that was taped up with an IV needle with mine.

"Hello, Mr. Black." A tall, blonde woman who looked like she could've been a real-life replica of Boticelli's Birth of Venus entered the room wearing a lab coat and carrying a chart in her hands. She didn't look like a doctor. She looked like she _played_ the doctor on television. "How are we feeling this morning?"

A small smile flicked over his lips, like he was reminded of an inside joke. "Tired."

Dr. Hot poke at a machine to Edward's left, cycling through a bunch of different screens. "Ninety percent." She announced with a shake of her head. "You're dropping in sats, Edward."

"Sorry."

She marked something down in her chart. "We're going to keep an eye on it, but if it goes any lower, then we'll look into mechanical ventilation."

Mrs. Black made a choked noise. "A trache?"

Dr. Hot shook her head. "I want to avoid it if possible. We'll probably start with a BPAP and go from there." She said and started to undo her stethoscope that hung around her neck.

I started to stand up to get out of her way and she stopped me. At this proximity, I could see her name was actually Dr. Rosalie Hale on her hospital nametag, as it hung from her billowy blouse. She pulled the first bow of Edward's hospital gown and affixed the stethoscope on his back. Edward unhooked himself from the oxygen and sucked in ragged breaths at her command.

"Pneumonia doesn't sound too bad." She announced and stood back up. I retied Edward's hospital gown for him. "If you would've waited to come in, though, it could've gone south pretty quick."

"Which is why we're keeping you on antibiotics." A new voice said.

A hulking, wall of a man stepped in also wearing a lab coat stepped in. _Geez._ I thought at the sight of him. _Who do they employ around here? Superheroes?_ He had dark, curly hair peppered with gray and a warm smile.

"Dr. McCarty." Jacob greeted him with an elbow bump and big smiles. "I _have_ to tell you about this play I made the other night. It was a Hail Mary blessed by Mother Theresa herself."

"Dr. Bears." Edward leaned over and whispered at me. "I'm pretty sure he has a thing with Dr. Hot."

I looked at Dr. Hot, who had gone heart-eyes at Dr. Bears. I glanced at both of their left hands and didn't find wedding rings. _Definitely a thing._ I concluded. Very _Grey's Anatomy._

"Edward," Dr. Bears boomed as Dr. Hot handed off the chart before saying her goodbyes and clicking out of the door. "How are you feeling?"

Edward's eyes rolled. "Tired."

"Well, you are in a clinical relapse of AML." Dr. Bears said as he flipped through pages. "But, you already knew that. And you have some baby bacterial pneumonia going on that's being controlled by the lovely Dr. Hale. Your kidneys are showing signs of advanced wear and tear, so we are monitoring those at the moment. Any questions so far?"

"What do you mean about his kidneys?" Mrs. Black asked.

Dr. Bears shrugged, unconcerned. "Renal functionality is down. It's not uncommon for suppressed immune systems. I'm not too worried. Kidneys are tough cookies." He closed the chart and jammed it under his armpit. "I don't want to talk about your kidneys, though. I want to talk game plan for your cancer."

We all stiffened, our full attention on the doctor. Edward's fingers tightened around mine.

"I want to do a bone marrow transplant." The doctor leaned on the plastic footboard of the hospital bed. "We can do the induction/consolidation chemo plan over and over, but every time we do that it stresses Edward's organs out – especially his lungs - and doesn't completely rid him of all the myeloblasts. I think a clean slate is what you need to get rid of this thing once and for all."

"But-," Mrs. Black started to interrupt, but the doctor held up his hand.

"I know Edward doesn't have family to draw from, but we have a whole registry of unrelated donors that could he could possibly be a match for him." The doctor sighed. "There are some risks involved with an unrelated donor, but I think this is Edward's best option at this point."

"What's a bone marrow transplant?" I whispered, feeling very overwhelmed with all the medical talk.

"They kill off my cancerous white blood cells and then give me another person's healthy white blood cells." Edward said, his finger swirling over the back of my hand. "They start producing good white blood cells and get rid of the cancer."

"Oh," I said, my eyes widening. _Get rid of the cancer_ bounced in my head like it was shouted down a canyon "Can anyone be a match?"

"As long as they match the five or more proteins."

"Can I be tested then?"

" _Bella_." Edward choked.

I looked up at his concerned green eyes. "What? I didn't even know what bone marrow _did_ until five minutes ago. You obviously need it more than me."

Dr. Bears shrugged. "We can test you." His eyes narrowed. "Although, if you're under eighteen, you'll need a parent or guardian to sign off on it."

"I'm eighteen." I volunteered excitedly. _I could help Edward._ I thought, feeling my heart flutter in my chest. _I could help him get rid of the cancer._

"You are?"

I looked up to Edward's confused eyes, the excitement in my chest replace itself with embarrassment. I flushed. "Yeah, my, um, birthday was in September."

"It was?" He twisted, his eyes flashing.

"Yeah," I said. "The nineteenth."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I shrugged. "Because, it's not that big of deal. I don't even remember what I did that day, honestly. I think I just went to school." _I tried to forget it was a thing, actually._ I added in my head. _Since every year is one more step towards the end._

He fell against his pillow, his eyebrows scrunched up. "It is to me." He sighed. "I'm the worst boyfriend ever." His head shook from side-to-side.

" _Edward_." I groaned. "Just worry about _yourself_ , okay?"

"Well, I'll get the test ordered." Dr. Bears said with a thunderous laugh.

* * *

 _November 26, 2016_

I was almost through filling out the three-page packet of my medical history, personal information and HIPAA consent over to share information over Edward's bed table when Kate came into the room.

"How's lunch?"

I glanced at the lunch tray that sat untouched next to my papers.

"Fine." Edward said, his armed crossed and his knees pulled to his chest.

"I saw your brother and Dad go downstairs."

"Yeah." He answered curtly.

He was still upset that I didn't tell him about my birthday. I tried to tell him that I didn't want to bother him a week after being discharged from the hospital, but I think that only made it worse.

"Hey, sweetpea." She stood in front of me. "You ready to get tested?"

I looked up surprised. I thought she had come in for Edward. Medical staff dressed in varying hues of the rainbow came in and out all day long, poking at different machines, replacing bags of fluid, taking vitals, etc. "Yeah," I said hurriedly and handed her my finished paperwork. "Is it like a cheek swab or something?"

"Oh, no. We just take a drop of blood." She produced a lancet and a plastic credit card-looking thing.

 _Blood?_ I felt my lips shrink into my mouth as my stomach rolled over the idea of blood. _It's for Edward._ I told myself. _It's going to help Edward._ I held out my hand as she snapped on some gloves, prepared my finger with alcohol and then poked my finger. I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath.

I felt a cool hand lace with mine that wasn't getting stabbed and looked up into Edward's concerned green eyes. He had scooted over the bed to me and pressed his lips to my temple. I sucked in a tiny breath, the smell of blood hitting me full force in the face and felt dizzy.

"When will we know?" Mrs. Black asked as she watched.

"I'm actually going to run it right now. Give me about fifteen minutes." Kate said as she wrapped a Band-Aid around my finger.

She left and I went to task on sucking in air and exhaling it so I didn't accidentally get sick all over the bed I was sitting on.

"It would be such a blessing if you're a match, Bella." Mrs. Black said from the vinyl lounger that was sitting next to the bed.

I nodded at her, still fighting nausea.

"She's not going to be." Edward said, his eyes hardening.

"Don't say things like that." Mrs. Black scolded.

"Why not?" He argued. "The chances she would be a match are _ridiculously_ high."

"We can still _hope_."

"Edward," I said, once I had recovered. "I _want_ to help you."

He opened his mouth to say something, but Jacob bounced into the room, followed by Mr. Black. He threw a package of cookies into Edward's lap. "Snuck you in some real food." He grinned. "And by 'real food' I mean junk food."

"Thanks." Edward muttered and put the cookies on the table.

Jacob inhaled a big gust of air and sighed before dragging a plastic chair over and taking a seat. Mr. Black took the arm of the lounge chair, picking up the remote and switched around sports channels.

Edward shifted onto his side, his eyes still hard and his lower lip in-between his teeth. My eyebrows furrowed at him because I could tell he was upset, and I don't think it was about my birthday anymore. It was something more. I wanted to ask him about it, but I had a feeling it something he didn't want to share in front of his family.

I ran my fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead, turning my thoughts to the test. To the drop of blood that would decide if I could help Edward rid of _cancer_. _Please let me be a match._ I begged in my head as I stared at my boyfriend's long eyelashes and ran my fingers down his chiseled jaw.

 _Please let me be a match._

* * *

 **is she a match? is she not? Tune in next time on this dumpster shit heap of a fic!**

 **edaygin - thank you for your enthusiasm i bless you with a thousand nice thoughts**

 **Arazatah - well save some tears because you're not done yet**


	19. Chapter 19

_Jacob_

 _January 25, 2014_

I pushed myself into the bathroom, my eyes going to the sink. The bowl was covered in blood and not like when you bleed a little when you brush your teeth. It was dark, almost black and thick. It looked like someone was murdered and left to drain. It looked like something out of a horror movie. "Edward!" I hissed at him. "What is going on?"

He jumped, startled at my presence and quickly moved to stand in front of the vanity to block my view. His eyes wide on me and his face red. He reached behind him and twisted the faucet on. "Nothing!"

"It's not nothing!" I retorted.

"Okay, okay." His eyes darted everywhere. "I got a nosebleed."

My stomach churned with anger and disgust. Not over the blood, but over the fact that Edward couldn't spit out the truth to _me_ , his _brother_. "It's _not_ a nosebleed. I watched you cough that up." I pointed to the sink.

His face flicked through a bunch of emotions – anger, disbelief, shame - finally landing on desperation. "I don't know what it is." He said. "But, you _can't_ tell Mom and Dad."

I looked at him, confusion twisting me up. "What are you talking about? Edward, if you're sick-,"

"I'm not." He held up his hands, his eyes flashing. "Not cancer, anyway. It's _not_ cancer."

My eyebrows furrowed in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." He said. "I'm sure. It's not the same as it was last time."

"You need to tell Mom, though." I said. I wasn't, like, a _doctor_ , but I knew whatever was happening wasn't good. "You still need to get checked out."

"No!" He cried. "I can't. _Please_ don't tell Mom."

"Why not?"

We stared each other down for about half a minute before Edward's shoulders slumped in defeat and his eyes filled with tears. "Because…" He ducked his head and mumbled something.

"What?"

His shoulders folded in on themselves like he was trying to make himself smaller, his arms circling around his waist. Tears fell down his face. "They'll get rid of me." He whispered.

"Edward," I groaned. "What gave you that idea?"

He scowled, the tears flowing freely down his face. "Jake, _open_ your eyes. I was adopted because I was stuffed in a box in the wall of the fire station." He began to pace around the small bathroom, the sink still stained red with his blood. "And I had cancer. Now, we don't have anymore money. Jake, what do you do with broken toasters? Or when the batteries have run out of juice in the remote?" He sniffed, his voice cracking. "Or when the cat gets too old and you can't pay for the medication it needs?"

"Edward, we're not getting _rid_ of you." I scoffed. "You're not a broken toaster or an old cat. You're my _brother_. You're Mom and Dad's _son_. You're a _Black_."

"Only on paper." He sniffed.

I shook my head, feeling my choler rise. This was all Sam Uley's and the rest of the stupid kids at school's fault. They put all these ideas in Edward's head. _Why_? Because he looks different than the rest of us? _Bastards_.

"Boys!" Mom shouted. "Come on! We're going to be late!"

"You can't tell them." He whispered at me, the raw fear in his eyes freezing me where I stood. " _Please_."

* * *

 _January 28, 2014_

I had a problem.

I knew, _knew_ what was going on with Edward wasn't good. And now that I was aware that he might have something, I was more observant of the signs – his lack of appetite, a weird cough that came and went, the circles underneath his eyes, the way he didn't want to play ball with me after school or do anything, really, that wasn't moping around on the couch or on his bed. Something was seriously wrong. Even if it wasn't cancer. It was _something_ and he needed to get checked out.

But, he had sworn me to secrecy. Begged me to keep it to myself on this delusion that if Mom and Dad found out they were going to kick him to the curb like when our we bought our television at Best Buy and had to return it because it was missing a cord. It was so _stupid._ I was going to smash Sam's face in first chance for putting the idea in his head.

I was contemplating my problem at the Laundromat, watching our towels turn in the dryer when my mother noticed me spacing out.

"Baby," She smoothed my hair down. "What's wrong?"

I looked around for my brother, who had disappeared. A flash of anxiety laced through me and I felt myself stiffen. It was weird, but I didn't like being away from him knowing that something was wrong with him. "Where's Edward?"

"He went to the convenience store to get a bag of chips."

"Oh," I settled my chin back on my hand and went back to my favorite program of Towels Spinning Over and Over. I jerked back up a second later at a sudden thought. "Mom?"

"Yes, Jake?"

"You wouldn't get rid of Edward, right? Even though we're broke now?"

She looked at me like I had groan a second head and started chanting incantations in Swahili. "What the _hell_ are you talking about?"

I sighed, feeling a little guilty. _Well, it technically wasn't saying anything._ "Edward's being really bullied at school because he's adopted and I think he's starting to believe it."

"What do you mean by bullied?" Mom's eyes flashed with concern. And anger.

I shrugged. "Nobody talks to him. Or when they do it's to call him a name," I winced at the last one – 'dumpster baby' - that was carved into the wood of his desk yesterday. "They steal his lunch. They stuff adoption center and abortion clinic brochures into his backpack. They tell him that he should've been thrown out or swallowed-,"

"How long has this been going on?" Mom twisted in the off-yellow bowl seat purchased sometime in the late seventies.

I shrugged. "Since the tribe found out about the BIA thing. He thinks he's," I shrugged. "Disposable? Because he's not Native American? And you're going to return him to the animal shelter or something."

I was suddenly transported back to that evening months ago where Edward was stripping off his sheets because of a nightmare. _I had a dream that Mom and Dad dropped me off at the animal shelter._ I felt my eyebrows furrow. That was before the BIA thing, though. Has he always thought that? That he was _abandonable_?

She twisted back to the front, her eyes narrowing at the bank of dryers. They had gone misty. "Is that why he's been acting so down lately? He thinks we're going to get rid of him?"

I played nervously with my shirt and nodded. "You're not, right?" I almost whispered.

Her whole body jerked, her hair whipping. "Edward is _my_ baby. _My_ son." Tears fell down her face. "My miracle." She breathed. " _Of course,_ we're not going to get rid of him and I should pop you for even inferring that." She snapped at me.

I put my hands up. "I'm just telling you what I know." I defended. "He's _my_ brother. It pisses me off when I see the other kids treat him bad."

Mom looped her arm around my shoulders. "I know. I know." She relaxed and sighed. "You're a good brother to him."

"Will you talk to him? He's having bad dreams about it and I think the he's really freaked out."

"Of course, baby." She whispered and we both went back to staring at the dryers. "Of course."

* * *

 _January 29, 2014_

I woke up to coughing. Anxiety blasted ice into my veins. I glanced at the light streaming through the window and then leaned over to see Edward was sitting up on his bunk, his hands pressed to his chest. "Are you okay, Edboy?" I whispered above him.

He looked up at me, tears in his eyes. "Yeah. I'm okay." He said as he tried to suppress the coughs, the air puffing up his cheeks. I stared at him incredulously and he got himself under control. "I'm _fine_."

There was a knock and then Mom popped her head into our room. "Get dressed. We're going out." She looked at Edward, who was shrinking his arms into his sleeves, bunching the ends into his fists and then at me.

I leaned over to glance at the time and then groaned. "Mom it's only eight-thirty on a _Sunday_."

"I don't care." She said. "We're going out." She disappeared with that.

"I'll shower first." Edward said and stood up, picking out his outfit at the closet – which always included his ratty hoodie – and then shuffling himself to the bathroom.

I sighed and sat up, flipping my leg over the roll guard of my bunk and popping to the floor. I stretched and looked around Edward and I's shared room. We technically had a three-bedroom house and one of the rooms were empty since Rachel and Rebecca had moved out, but Edward and I had been roomies since we were infants and mutually felt it would be weird if we lived apart.

And I wouldn't be able to keep my eye on him if he was in a different room. That thought looped anxiety around in my stomach.

I turned towards the bed to flip the blanket over so it looked like I made it from a distance. Something caught my eye and yanked Edward's pillow, inspecting it. There were spots of what looked to be dried blood on his pillowcase. I groaned internally. _You need a doctor, Edboy._

I sighed. That settled it. If he didn't tell them something was wrong by today, I was going to. Promise or not, he needed to see someone. Something was _wrong_. Really, _really_ wrong. And it seemed like it was only getting worse.

I went to replace his pillow, but saw something else. A sheet of paper. I looked at it confused. I sometimes hid Dad's old Playboys I had come across in storage under my mattress. But, this was a piece of notebook paper. I picked it up and unfolded it.

 _Mom, Dad, Rebecca, Rachel and Jake,_ it started in Edward's neat handwriting he always got praised for by the teacher.

 _If you're reading this, I'm dead._

I sunk to Edward's bunk, not even registering that my butt hit the mattress.

 _It's for the best. I'm very, very sorry for causing everyone so much trouble. I hope you aren't too sad when I'm gone. Especially you, Mom. I always hated it when you cried over me. You were the best family anyone could've ever asked for. I love you guys so much._

 _Love your son,_

 _Edward_

"What the fuck?" I heard myself breathe out as I read and reread the paper. A billion questions bounced around my head like a swarm of angry hornet. _Was this a_ suicide _note? Was Edward planning on killing himself? What was going on with him?_

I froze, my fingers feeling numb.

 _I have to tell Mom._

I heard the door creak open and I jumped to my feet and jammed the note in the back hem of my pajama pants at the same time.

Edward came in dressed for the day, his hair still wet. He looked me up and and down. "What's with you?" He asked me, his eyebrows furrowing.

I felt my face heat red as I looked at my brother, the note against my back feeling like it was million degrees, searing the words into my flesh. _If you're reading this, I'm dead._ I dropped my eyes to the floor. "Nothing." I said. "I need to get dressed."

* * *

 _January 29, 2014_

Mom and Dad drove in silence to Port Angeles. They wouldn't tell us where we were going, though. I could tell it was freaking Edward out, as he fidgeted with the hem of his sweater and watched the passing tree line through the back window, his face red with his thoughts. Every couple of minutes he coughed into his fist.

I was breathing with relief though. Maybe Mom heard Edward cough and we were taking him straight to the hospital. We were going to see the big football-player-turned-doctor and he would treat Edward with whatever he had. He would get better and then we can go home and everything would be fine.

Fine.

I still had the note. I didn't know what to do with it and didn't have a chance between getting ready and leaving to replace it under Edward's pillow, so I jammed it in my back pocket. It still felt hot back there. Like it was on fire. Like it was made out of molten lava.

Edward coughed lowly again, trying to suppress them and failing. He winced when he coughed, like they hurt his chest.

"Baby," My mom turned in the passenger seat to look at Edward. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine." His eyes flicked to his lap and then went back to staring out the window. "Allergies."

 _Edward couldn't be suicidal._ I looked at him and then looked at him fiddle with a hole in his well-loved hoodie. _Could he?_

My stomach sunk when we passed the exit we usually took to get to Olympic. _We aren't going to the hospital?_ I felt my mouth pop open and my palms go sweaty. "Where are we going?"

"I said," Mom's eyes flashed in the rearview mirror. "You guys will see."

I threw myself against the backseat with a groan. _Turn around._ I urged them in my head. _We need to go to the hospital. We need to get Edward help_. I looked at him again. _Can't you see he's sick?_

"Stop looking so worried, you two." Mom scolded from the front seat. "It's going to be fun, I _promise_."

We eventually did take an exit and drove to a different part of town. I watched as we slowed at an intersection called _Amusement Blvd_ and then turn into a gigantic parking lot. A big, boxy building broke the horizon with a gigantic sign out front that read _Funtastics!_ Over to the side was a mini-golf park with gigantic animals and houses.

"Where are we?" Edward asked as he took everything in with his wide, green eyes.

"Sue recommended this place. It has a racetrack and bumper boats and an arcade." Mom began to explain, her eyes shining with excitement. "And I thought that we haven't had some good family fun in awhile. So…" She held up her hands. "Surprise!"

We both froze in disbelief, turning into stone pillars of doubt and skepticism.

I found a sign that read lasertag in gigantic, blocky letters. "Lasertag?" I asked in disbelief and smacked Edward in the arm. "Dude, _lasertag_."

Edward giggled like a crazy person, his slanted smile on his face. "This is cool."

I started vibrating with excitement. We hadn't done _anything_ like this since the BIA thing went down in November. 'Family fun' nowadays consisted of playing our old game of _Operation!_ which was missing a wishbone piece or helping Mom fold laundry while we watched PBS.

Edward seemed to be as excited as I was, the sparkle returning into his eyes. "Bro, I'm so going to own you at lasertag." He pushed me as we walked into the building together.

I felt the competition flare in me and I gently wailed on him. "No, you're not. I'm still the _Halo_ champion in the household."

"I'm still faster than you." He retorted.

We took everything in. Some of it was a little kiddie – the arcade being one. But, the moving screen for the lasertag looked so _sick_. We both froze as we watched the advertisement, which was Michael Bay-levels of awesome, featuring explosions and a challenge area.

"Mom," I spun around to her, gripping the strap of her leather purse. "We _have_ to play lasertag. Like, _right now_."

"Okay, okay." She said, a wide smile on her face. "Give me two seconds. Your father is purchasing the tickets."

I turned back to Edward and grabbed his arm, almost bouncing up and down with giddiness. "Dude, you're going to get freaking owned."

"Not if I own you first." He grabbed and put me in a headlock. I was stronger than him and broke free. "Mom, after lasertag can we play mini-golf?"

Mom ran her fingers through Edward's hair, her eyes going soft when she looked at him. "Sure, baby."

"Mini-golf?" I groaned. "Mini golf is _boring_. We should go on the _bumper boats_ next."

Dad put on our wristbands that let us in and out of the attractions and then handed us two tickets for a round of lasertag.

Edward and I raced each other up the neon-painted ramp and through the door into the lasertag area. He was faster than me and got to the pimply college kid running the lasertag area first. But, I was right on his tail, handing the guy my ticket at the same time.

They took a group of us back to an area where they had the chest sensors that connected the gun with a wire. He showed us how to buckle them around us and then demonstrated how to win points by making your opponents chest light up when you shot at them.

The guy opened the door, and a fog machine filled the ground up to our knees with misty smoke. Dubstep music cranked loud through the speakers. It was like stepping into a different world.

"Wow." Edward breathed.

I had the same thought. The lasertag area was a multi-level gigantic room cut with ramps and chain link fences and that was dark except for the black lights that littered the area, lighting up the neon paint with highlighter shades of greens and pinks and yellows. A scoreboard lit up the west wall, broadcasting the number of your chest sensor and the points you earned when you got people.

I heard a noise and looked down to see my chest sensor light up. I looked up to see Edward's teeth glow under the black light as he grinned at me. "Got you!" He shrieked before turning and descending a random ramp.

 _I'm going to get you so hard._ I thought and chased after him. I aimed and shot, watching the back sensor light up. It wasn't as many points as a chest shot, but it'll do. "Come back here!"

"No!" He said and jumped a level, twisting and shooting me. My sensor made a noise again, piped through a speaker that sat on my shoulder.

I turned and followed him, coming face-to-face with a piece of fence and a giant spray-painted neon pink X. I turned and ducked around a corner. _Think tactically._ I thought back to every _Mission Impossible_ movie.

I hugged the walls. Edward was slipperier than a fish and wicked fast. He was going to go for guerilla warfare, while I was a tank that ran right into thick of things. I needed to think like him.

I ran up a small stairway, freezing before the corner and ducking around. I shot someone, lighting up their chest piece, but it wasn't Edward. _Where are you, Edboy?_

I ran around the edge of the room, going up and and down ramps, coming across blind corners, and dead ends. I glanced at the screen on the wall. Besides my one shot, nobody had gotten him yet. _He's camping somewhere._ I felt my choler rise. _The little cheater!_

I was about to check one more area when sirens went off, flashing through the room with green and blue lights. A voice announced at the game was over and that the winner was number forty-two.

"Dammit." I stomped my foot in frustration. _Edward won._ Now, I was going to hear it all day. Maybe I could convince Mom and Dad to pay for one more game so I could get him back.

I exited through the door that led back to the room that held the chest sensors and guns, shedding the laser tag stuff. I looked around for Edward, but I didn't see him.

"Number twenty-three." The pimply college kid said. "I'm missing number twenty-three."

 _That's Edward's number._

A note of anxiety sang through me, taking my insides and knotting them up. "That's my brother." I said to the staff member.

"Do you think he's hiding?" The guy asked, a bored look on his face.

I shook my head. "I don't think so."

The guy sucked in a deep breath and exhaled it. "Does your brother suffer from seizures?"

I shook my head again. "No."

He clicked up a bunch of lights and twisted a nob. "Come on." He motioned.

We reentered the laser tag room together. It was lit up with overhead lights now and the music had been turned off. Without the black lights, it kind of looked like a skeezy prison. "Edward?" I called.

"Is that his name?"

I nodded at the staff guy and he turned. "Edward? Game's over, buddy. I gotta let the next group in."

I separated from the guy and we called Edward's name. The note of anxiety grew louder, joining other voices, turning into a symphony of panic. "Edward!" I called, my voice rising in pitch as my heart pounded in my chest. "Come on, bro. This isn't funny!"

I found the pink X I ran into earlier, turned and headed down a ramp. There was a split at the bottom and I checked the right side and then about-faced. I started down the hall. "Ed-," I choked when I saw something on the concrete floor.

It was a puddle, but it was dark maroon. Ice blasted through my veins, making all my limbs feel like they had frozen and broken off. I couldn't move them, but they moved anyway towards the puddle. _Please don't be him_. I begged in my head. _Please._

It was Edward. He laid face down in a puddle of blood, his hand still wrapped around the lasertag gun and his eyes closed. My knees gave out and I felt them hit the ground.

I opened my mouth to shout for help, yell for Mom and Dad, for them to call an ambulance, but the only thing I could manage was a scream.

* * *

 _January 29, 2013_

I could feel hands on me, on my shoulders as I was moved up out of the way. I could feel Edward's warm blood on my hands. I could feel my pulse in my head and hear voices in my ears. Strange voices. Familiar voices. Barking voices.

But, everything moved like I was moving through a swirling vortex. Like I was stuck in the middle of a tornado. Everything spinning and spinning around me, I couldn't get a grasp on what was happening. I couldn't find solid ground. I just sat there frozen, my eyes glued on my brother, who was unconscious.

They turned him to his back and I watched my father and two other people kneel over him, feel his neck and listen to his breaths.

"Ambulance is on its way!" Someone said behind me.

"He's not breathing." My dad said, but his voice was unattached to his body, his lips moving out of sync with his words. It was like I was trying to watch a badly dubbed Japanese movie.

He pressed his mouth to Edward's, his hands bloody as he gripped Edward's face. His shirt was bloody as he leaned over him. His knees were bloody as he sat in Edward's blood. Someone else spoke, but the voice was muted, unintelligible. Or I couldn't hear him over the force of my own heartbeat in my ears.

I opened my mouth and sucked in a breath, but all the air was gone in the room. My lungs screamed for air, but I couldn't get any oxygen. It was gone. We were in space.

There were more hands on me, pulling me out of the way. _How did I get on my feet?_ I thought detachedly. I _was just on my knees._ Three blue-clad paramedics rushed around Edward, surrounded him with my father.

Another pair of hands. This time, they were on my face. My mother's eyes interrupted my view of Edward. They were wide and panicked. "Jacob," She said, her lips moving out of tandem with her words. "You _have_ to calm down."

I opened my mouth to argue. I _was_ calm. I was the eye of the tornado. I was the fixed point everything was revolving around. But only choked vowels sounds made it through. Vowel sounds and my own pulse.

"We have to go, Jacob." She ordered and grabbed my hand and started pulling me.

The world was going fuzzy around the edges as it spun like a fucked up tilt-a-whirl. My feet moved though or I thought they were moving. I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure of anything anymore. It was like I was sucked into a nightmare. This couldn't be real life. _This couldn't be real life._

I blinked and I was in the car, in the passenger seat. Mom chattered next to me. I couldn't understand her. She could've been speaking Korean for all I knew. I looked at my hands, which were red. I looked at my knees, which were red. I looked at my t-shirt which was also red.

 _This is Edward's blood._

Something cracked inside of me. "Edward-," I strangled out.

A hand grabbed mine and I looked down. We were the same color: blood red. "It's going to be okay." My mother said to me. The first words that actually matched up with the mouth that was speaking them. "Edward's going to be _okay_."

I blinked again and I was in the waiting area of the emergency room. I looked around for Dad, but I didn't see him.

My mother led me to an empty chair and I was pushed down. "Stay here, okay?" She ordered and I numbly nodded. _What do they tell you to do when the airplane was crashing?_ I leaned forward and gripped my knees and forced myself to inhale.

I felt the crack inside of me again, this time releasing the whole dam. I started to sob, hot tears down my face.

Breathing wasn't going to do anything for me. I wasn't an in airplane. I was on the ground. I wasn't in danger. No. Edward was. And the danger lived under his skin.

* * *

 **Sooo...who needs a hug after that? I think Jake does.**

 **Everyone seems to be for Bella being a match for Edward. What a bummer if she wasn't though, huh? I guess you'll have to keep checking back to see if she is! Or isn't! Is Edward going to die? Maybe? IDK! Please keep reviewing and I will keep murdering your soul with this trash truck of a fic.'kay?**


	20. Chapter 20

_Bella_

 _November 26, 2016_

Edward did end up falling asleep while we were waiting for the results of the test back, his pout and hunched shoulders relaxing as sweet dreams took him as he cuddled up against me. Jacob and Mr. Black went back to watching college football on the television and Mrs. Black had her novel.

I took the moment to inspect his bruised arm that was wrapped around my torso. Apparently, bruising was a sign of cancer, but it looked like he went a couple of rounds in the octagon with the Incredible Hulk, his arms were so red and purple.

A machine squealed a piercing, urgent tone next to us and we all jumped at the noise, including Edward who was jolted out of sleep. everyone's necks flying around to look at him.

Edward's hands flew to his chest and he straightened himself up, sucking in ragged breaths through his teeth, his eyes sharpening with pain.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Mrs. Black rose to her feet and so did I to get out of the way. "He needs his mask."

A staff member in a lab coat flew into the room, regarded Edward for a second before turning to the screen that Dr. Hale was poking at. "Seventy-eight percent." She announced as she simultaneously pressed an oxygen mask to his face and lifted the head of the bed to almost a ninety-degree angle. "Deep breaths, Edward."

"Easy," inhale. "Foryou," inhale. "Tosay."

The staff member's eyes went narrow as she looked at different screens. And then they widened as something happened on the monitor.

"What's going-," Mrs. Black said, her eyes wide.

Another piercing sound filled the room and then another and another. Edward's eyes rolled up into his head and then closed, his jaw going slack. I started to back up until my butt hit the wall, my eyes wide and my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

"He's crashing!" The staff member turned and hit a button on the wall. "Code blue!"

" _What_!?" Mrs. Black shrieked as Mr. Black clamped his hands around her arms and started dragging her out of the room.

I cowered against the wall, trying to flatten myself, disappear into it. _What the hell is going on?_

I watched a group of people with a cart come in. I felt like I had been sucked into the middle of a medical drama as they lowered the head of Edward's bed and started stripping his hospital gown off of him, revealing his pale chest. _What is going on?_ Edward was just _sleeping_ on me. The room started to spin as I watched them pick up the defibrillator paddles. _This couldn't be happening._

"Come on, Bella." I looked up to Jacob, who was breathing hard, but his face was a stoic mask. "We need to get out of their way."

I let him drag me by the elbow into the hallway, where Edward's parents were. I found the wall again, my hands gripping a wooden chair rail to keep myself from collapsing on the ground, my head feeling like it had been blown up three sizes too big.

"They're going to intubate him." Mrs. Black paced around, her fingertips digging into her forehead. "They're going to put him back on mechanical ventilation."

"If that's what they have to, Sarah. Then we need to let them. _They're_ the professionals." His dad argued.

"But, if they intubate him, he'll never get off of it."

"That's not true." Mr. Black said. "He got off of it the first time."

"What is that?" I felt myself whisper as I watched them continue arguing back and forth.

"It's a machine that breathes for Edward." Jake said, his hands shaking. "He struggled really hard to get off of it the first time."

My hands flew to my neck, to where Edward had that little horizontal scar under his adam's apple. "The trache."

Jacob nodded.

Dr. Hale ran down the hallway towards us in what seemed like slow motion. Like _Baywatch_ , but instead of of a bikini, she was in a pencil skirt and a lab coat. She breezed past us into the room and we waited for what seemed like hours, but it was probably only a couple of minutes.

I sucked in ragged breaths and tried not to freak out, my fingers still wrapped around the wood behind me, anchoring me to earth.

Dr. Hale popped back out a couple minutes later. "Hey, family. Edward's going to be okay. I want to run some tests, but it's looking like there was a lot of fluid buildup in his lungs between the pneumonia and his kidneys and it caused his heart to work too hard. That's what caused the crash." She said. "We're going to transfer him to the ICU to monitor him better."

"Did you intubate him?"

Dr. Hale's face twisted uncomfortably. "Yes. For now, at least. We'll look at reopening the tracheostomy probably in a couple of hours after he's gotten some rest. Why don't you guys head to the ICU's waiting room and someone come get you when he's settled?"

Mrs. Black's eyes flashed with anger and Mr. Black put his hand on her arm. "Why-,"

"We really, _really_ need to get this infection under control, especially if we want to start chemo soon." Dr. Hale said polite, yet firmly. "Otherwise he risks getting other, more dangerous infections. This is really the best way."

Mrs. Black nodded in defeat. "Okay." She whispered.

I felt a hand on my arm and looked up to Jacob, his eyes wide, but his jaw set. "Come with me." He said. "I need to get something out of my car."

* * *

 _November 26, 2016_

I followed Jacob through the hospital, feeling like I was floating more than walking. I made it all the way out to the parking lot before the sharp talons of reality set in. _Edward crashed._ The thought pierced through my brain. _His heart stopped beating._

 _I almost lost him._

I doubled-over and threw up my muffin from breakfast into a decorative bush right outside the exit, my stomach churning wildly and my hands on my knees.

I felt a hand on my back as I attempted to pull myself together. "It's okay." Jacob said in a soothing tone. "He's going to be okay."

I felt tears prickle my eyes and I tried to banish them, but a few managed to squeeze out. "Does it ever get easier?" I asked, trying to fight a second wave of nausea, my hands feeling numb.

"No," Jacob shook his head. "It doesn't."

I nodded and stood back up, wiping my face. "What did you need to get out of your car?"

I followed him to the back of his Mustang and he opened it, revealing a trunkful of crap. Sweaters, sports equipment, old assignments and books. There was even one of Edward's oxygen tanks in the back, propped into the corner. I watched him numbly as he sifted through the stuff, pulling out a tiny whiteboard. He pulled off the connected marker and tested it.

"What's that for?"

"Edward can't talk with the trache." Jacob explained, slamming his trunk closed. "This turns into his primary form of communication." He shrugged, his eyes flashing with white hot pain for a second. "Well, and me." He poked his temple, a small, pained smile on his face. "Twin telepathy."

I regarded Jacob for a moment, taking him all in. He purposefully held himself up, his back straight and tight. And his words were practiced, precise. This wasn't the same, carefree goofy kid from school. It was like someone turned down the neon on his bright hues, his colors threatening to bleed together like a watercolor painting.

I felt my eyebrows furrow as I realized that everyone focused so hard on Edward, that they forgot about Jacob. Nobody reached out to ask him if he was okay. I felt sometime twist around my heart, cold fingers squeeze my chest.

"Jacob," I said and touched his arm.

I watched his black eyes snap to me. "You doing okay, Bella? You're not going to be sick again?"

I shook my head. "What about you? Are you okay? Do you, um," I felt my eyebrows furrow. "Want to talk about anything?"

I went back to the conversation we had in the little waiting room when Edward was first hospitalized. He choked up when he went over how Edward hid the fact that he had cancer the second time because he was scared that he was going to be given up. But, then something happened. He pulled himself together and no more tears were spilt.

I watched him waver – for a split second – at my question. But, then he did it again. A wall went up and he dropped his eyes. "I'm okay. Let's go back to the waiting room." He nodded and turned back towards the hospital entrance, his shoulders slumping just a teensy bit.

I knew he wouldn't tell anyone – he didn't seem like that type – but I had a feeling Jacob suffered more than he let on.

* * *

 _November 26, 2016_

Mr. and Mrs. Black weren't in the ICU waiting room when we got back. Jacob bee-lined right to the front desk, spoke with the staff member there and then motioned to me to follow him.

The ICU was a lot different than the rest of the hospital. All the walls that faced the hallway were made out of floor to ceiling glass. Everyone wore solid-colored scrubs that were specific to their position. Everything was sterile and white. There were no cartoon puppies or Loony Toons characters. This hallway wasn't meant to comfort; it was meant to heal.

I tried to not look at the other patients as I passed them, but it was hard when their wall was one gigantic window. I saw a little boy with dark brown hair and skin so pale, he bled into the white sheet around him, his mother holding his little hand. I saw an old man with his wife sitting dutifully at his side. I saw a woman with both legs in slings.

I saw Edward before I entered his room – surrounded by his folks – and almost threw up again.

It was like Edward was the subject of an alien probing experiment - different sized machines making home around the head, connecting to him via a bunch of different lines that disappeared up under his sheets. They hummed and beeped and sighed around him as they dutifully carried out their different functions in the fight for Edward's health.

He wasn't wearing a cannula anymore. His face was free of the permanent clear tubing that fed him oxygen through the nubbies in his nose. Instead I found a tube that jutted out of his neck. It was hooked up to a machine that whirred and slowly cycled through different screens.

But it was Edward. He was there. _Alive._

And awake.

I pushed myself to cross the threshold of his room, unfreezing my limbs and moving to his side. I came to his head, wrapping my fingers around the roll bars of his bed. "Hey." I whispered.

Jacob came and stood at my side.

His green eyes flicked to me, registering with momentary pain, his cheeks coloring with blush. His lips moved, but no sound came out. It was like I was watching a muted television.

"Edward, I don't know what you're saying." I shook my head.

His eyes flashed and he looked at Jacob, his fingers coming up and squeezing Jacob's hand. The two brothers regarded each other for a hard moment. Edward's eyes swirled with emotions. Jacob's black eyes registered him back. They went back and forth like this, having an unspoken conversation.

"Is he in pain?" Mrs. Black asked, her eyes wide on Jacob.

"No," Jacob said. "He pissed that he's on the trache."

Edward turned towards his mother and nodded, affirming Jacob's words.

"Baby, you crashed." She said, her fingers running through his bronze hair. "They need to get your infections under control so you don't do it again."

Edward's face twisted with a scowl, the color in face deepening and his lip inserting itself between his teeth. He looked back at Jacob and shook his hand that he was holding.

"Baby," Mrs. Black yanked the whiteboard out of Jacob's hand. "We're not all mind readers like Jacob. Write it down. _Please_."

His shoulders slumped and he took the pen, his hands shaky as he scrawled it over the board Mrs. Black held up for him.

 _Take it off._

"We can't do that."

Edward started to squirm and a machine made a noise behind me. I stepped to the side as it squawked, its screen flashing. His hand shakily went to the tube on his throat and Mrs. Black intercepted it before he could wrap his hand around it, forcing it to his side. He looked at me, a painful longing it his eyes and then up at Jacob.

"Bro, I can't do anything." Jacob answered, his shoulders shrugging.

A royal-blue clad staff member came in and we moved to let him work. He was a tall, thin fellow with black hair. He poked at a machine and I felt my heart fly into my throat. This is how he crashed the last time. But, the worry was squashed when he smiled. "You givin' people trouble, Edward?" He said with a British accent.

Edward's tapped angrily at the white board on his bedside cart.

"We will." The man looked at him. "You have to calm down though and give your heart a rest." He glanced up to a monitor above Edward's head that flashed through vital signs before turning to Mr. and Mrs. Black. "I'm Alistair, the charge nurse on duty. We have him on anti-anxiety medication as he gets used to the trache breathing for him again." He explained. "If he doesn't calm down in the next couple of hours, though, we'll start propofol."

Edward's eyes widened in horror and he shook his head, wiping the board and writing something down. _Don't knock me out._ He sighed with his shoulders and wrote another word. _Please._

"Scouts honor." Alistair held up three fingers. "As long as you calm down and rest."

Edward used his board again, a petulant pout finding its way on his face. _I'll be good._

A booming laugh filled the hallway, making us all turn. "Dr. McCarty, always making an entrance." Alistair rolled his eyes and patted Edward's shoulder. " _Rest_." He ordered before disappearing out of Edward's room.

I moved back to Edward's side and laced my fingers with his. "I love you." I whispered and I watched his eyes flick to me. He pressed my hand against his face and mouth 'I love you too.'

Dr. Bears came in a couple of moments later, a moving glacier of a person. "I saw you decided to scare the pants off of everyone, Edward." He said with a laugh as he took his place at the foot of the bed. "And make Dr. Hale's day a bit more interesting."

Edward just rolled his eyes.

"Well," Dr. Bears flipped through the chart. "I have good news and good news and good news and bad news. Where do you want to start?" The doctor's blue eyes fell on Edward, who just shrugged.

"I'll start with the good news." Dr. Bear's eyes flicked to me. "Your heart is healthy. You worked it out between your kidneys and your lungs and that's why you crashed. Luckily, between dialysis," He pointed to a green machine to Edward's right. "And the ventilation, you're giving it a good rest so it'll be good to go for chemo."

Dr. Bears looked up to make sure we were all tracking. I glanced around, feeling a little better when everyone was as blank and wide-eyed as me.

"Second good news is that the tracheostomy is temporary." Dr. Bears said. "Just until we get the pneumonia taken care of and then it'll come out. Deal?"

Edward nodded. 'Deal.' He mouthed.

"Final good news is…" He tapped his fingers on the chart like a drumroll. "Bella is a match for bone marrow donation."

We all gasped.

My heart stopped. Completely paused beating as I let the words sink into me. _I'm a match. I'm going to help Edward._ My heart took off like a jackhammer. _I'm going to help him._ I literally jumped up and down like a crazy person. "That's amazing news!" I said, my hand still clasped with Edward's, feeling light and airy for the first time since thanksgiving.

"Oh, what a blessing." Mrs. Black breathed.

"Alright Bella!" Jacob clapped my shoulder.

Edward wiped the board. _Bad news?_ He wrote down.

"Bella only matched the minimum requirements." He sighed. "Ideally, a sibling with the tissue type would be used. We draw on unrelated donors when that is not possible – as in Edward's case. Bella matches, but only just. This sets you up for some issues - my biggest concerns are graft failure and graft-versus-host-disease." He jammed the chart under his armpit. "There might be a better match in the registry, but that's a big if and it would mean waiting…which sets you up for _other_ issues." He let out a breath. "So, I'm leaving it up to you. We can use Bella or we can hold off for a better match."

We all turned to stone, the good feelings replaced by a heaviness. _I'm going to help Edward._ I tried repeating in my head, but it sounded hollow there. An echo of what it was.

I felt my hand shake and I looked down at Edward, who was staring at me with wide green eyes. He mumbled something silently, but I couldn't read lips. I felt my eyebrows furrow and I shook my head at him. He communicated by pressing a kiss to my hand he was holding. I felt my smile creep up despite myself. _I love you, Edward Black._

A voice cut the silence.

"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush." Mr. Black said, his hand around Mrs. Black's waist. We all snapped our eyes to him and he repeated himself. "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. I think we should go with Bella."

"I agree." Mrs. Black said and turned to face me. "Baby girl, it's up to you, but you would do so much good. It would be a miracle."

Jacob turned to me. "If you can help Edward," His eyes flashed. "You'll be the coolest girl on the face of this planet."

I turned to Edward, the love of my life and ran my fingers through his hair. "I'm willing if you are." I whispered at him.

His eyebrows furrowed in concern and he dropped my hand to write on his board. _Will it hurt her?_ He held it up for the doctor to read.

"For adult patients, we usually run it like if you were going to donate blood. But, minor patients respond better to the marrow harvested the traditional needle-in-the-butt method." He bellowed with laughter. "You'll be sore for a couple of days."

"I want to help you Edward." I said, my voice soft and pleading. "I love you."

'I love you too.' He mouthed, his eyes shining as he looked at me. He wiped his board and wrote something else down, holding it up for this family and Dr. Bears to see. _OK._

* * *

 _November 26, 2016_

"Do you have any autoimmune disorders?" Alistair asked.

"No."

"Anemia? Heart disease?" He read off his chart as he ticked things off. "Pregnant?"

I felt my face blush. "No!" I looked down at my hands, which I had clasped in my lap. "I've only been with Edward."

I was in an exam room off the ICU floor, getting my physical signed off on to be a donor. I had my neck felt up and my heart listened to. Alistair took my blood pressure and my temperature.

"Yeah, it would be hard to get pregnant by someone who can no longer make sperm."

I blushed harder. Edward and I had _that_ talk when I failed to produce condoms the first time we had sex and he failed to pull out, due to the fact that he lasted about three and a half minutes before orgasming. Since I was an unwanted pregnancy and Edward was _definitely_ an unwanted pregnancy, I started to freak out about possibly contributing to the the high statistics of unwanted pregnancies. He then turned a shade that rivalled cherry red and said that the chemo he received made him infertile.

"What brought you to northern Washington?" I tried to change the subject.

He snorted with laughter. "Moved here for my mother. You?"

"Getting _away_ from my mother." I rubbed my hands together.

He nodded. "This is the farthest you can geographically get away from someone and still remain the United States. Sickle cell?"

"No."

"How long have you and Edward been dating?"

"Since September."

"Three months and you're already willing to give up bone marrow for him?" He teased, his head shaking. "I can't even get my girlfriend of a year to move in with me."

"I love him." I said simply as I watched the nurse grab syringe and then grab a squishy, cube-shaped, flesh-colored stress ball thing.

"So, five days before the scheduled transplant, we're going to give you a medication called granulocyte colony stimulating factor or G-CSF."

"What's it for?"

"It's to stimulate your white blood cells so you have enough for you _and_ Edward." He explained. "You have to inject it right under the skin once a day. I'm going to give you a couple of needles so you can practice on an orange at home." Alistair said and then demonstrated on the flesh cube. "Wash your hands, prep with alcohol, ninety-degree stab, pull out quickly and throw away needle." He said and tossed the needle in the trash. "Easy peasy."

"Easy peasy." I repeated, feeling my palms go sweaty and the color drain from my face.

"Are you afraid of needles?" Alistair asked, his eyes narrowing as he took in my expression. "Because the one we're going to use for the marrow extraction…" He swirled his finger into what looked to be a dime-sized hole to demonstrate.

It wasn't the needles I was worried about, per se. But, the inevitable flow of blood that followed. "I have a phobia against blood." I gulped.

Alistair snorted.

"What?"

"That's kind of ironic."

"Explain, please." I felt the blush in my face.

"The girl with a phobia of blood falls in love with the boy with a blood cancer." Alistair laughed. "That's like…" He shrugged, a grin over his face. "…the vampire falling in love with his next meal."

* * *

 _November 27, 2016_

I couldn't share the bed with Edward when he was in the ICU since every orifice – artificial or otherwise – had some sort of tube jammed into it, spiderwebbing out of him like the tangle of cords that sat behind the television in the living room. I, instead, took a plastic chair next to his bed, tangling our hands together as he fell in and out of consciousness, his chin slumping on his trache tube.

They announced they were planning on moving him to the children's cancer treatment center that was at the UW hospital in Seattle once they were pretty sure the pneumonia was handled since it was better equipped to handle Edward and his specific care plan. This made me upset, since Seattle was a three-hour drive away from Forks. This meant I couldn't come in the evenings after school.

Edward comforted me with the fact that even I could see him, it wouldn't be for very long since he would be in isolation and that he would be gross as soon as he started chemo since apparently it made you sicker than a dog. Like I cared about _that_. I vowed silently that I would come right after school on Friday and spend the weekend in Seattle with him. I didn't care if I had to catapult myself there or arrive by donkey or jet pack myself across the Olympic peninsula. I was _going_ to be here for him.

"Bella," Mrs. Black poked her head into Edward's room early Sunday evening while we were both watching television. Or well, while Edward dozed and I watched television. "You want to start saying goodbyes?"

Something heavy dropped in me and I felt tears in my eyes before I could stop them. I didn't want to be separated from Edward. The very idea turned my stomach into knots and made my skin hot and flushed. I felt Edward's hand pat mine and I looked up to his green eyes shining with concern. His lips popped open, but he caught himself and picked up the dry erase marker. _It'll go fast._

I snorted, the tears falling on my face. "This is going to be the longest week of my life."

I stood up to stand over him, leaning over the roll bar of his bed. His smile, his beautiful crooked smile slid up on his face. He held up his board. _Same._

I pressed my forehead to his and ran my fingers into his hair. "You know," I smiled. "I would've been pretty gutted if I wasn't a match."

His smile slid off of his face. _I wish you didn't have to do this._ I read his board after he was done writing on it.

"Why?" I asked, feeling my eyebrows furrow in confusion.

 _You've already given me so much._ I watched his eyes glass over as he wrote the words down. He erased them and started writing again. _You never expect anything in return._

"Edward," I groaned. "I only _want_ you." _Alive and well._ I added in my head.

He smiled, the tears on his face. _If I had to get bone marrow from someone, I'm glad it's you._

I laughed at someone. "Even if Halsey's bone marrow was an option?"

His eyes flashed. _Tempting, but no. Just yours._

I laughed and kissed him on the forehead. "I expect daily texts, you know. Even if it's just to tell me good morning."

 _I'm going to live text you the whole third season of the Office._

"Good." I said and pressed my lips to the tip of his nose. "And then this weekend

 _I'm going to make your birthday up to you._ He held up his board, his eyes solid.

I rolled my eyes. "Just worry about getting _well_."

He tapped the whiteboard and then erased it and wrote something down. _You deserve it._

"You know what I would on my birthdays in Phoenix?" I asked. "I would get a burrito and my mom would get carne asada nachos and we would watch _Pulp Fiction_ in my living room and then I would go to bed because I had school in the morning."

 _Well, you didn't have me as your boyfriend._ He retorted on his board.

" _Edward_." I groaned, throwing my head back.

He mimicked me silently, his eyes rolling dramatically. _You're going to have an epic birthday and you're going to like it!_ He tapped on his board after he was done writing.

I snatched the board away from him. "I'm taking this away you. You have abused your powers."

He fought for it back, laughing silently, a hissing sound escaping from the tubing at his throat. He grabbed it and yanked it, pulling me across the roll bar right into his face. We froze at the same time, our faces so close I could see the color effervesce in his eyes. He leaned forward and kissed me.

I kissed him back, my fingers weaving into his hair and sliding down his face, which was starting to grow in stubble. It tasted like everything I wanted to tell him, everything from 'get well soon' to 'I love you to the moon and back.' I only stopped when I heard a machine around us start a low warning tone.

'I love you.' He mouthed, his fingers in my hair.

I pressed my forehead to his. "I love you too." _More than you will ever know._

* * *

 **so sorry to blindside you like this lol but I couldn't just give you what you wanted. I have to make y'all suffer for it a little. also I have no idea how long this fic is turning. I have so much more to do you guys before we even get to the REALLY intense parts. Thanks for taking this death ride with me ily so much**

 **mysticfighter111 - thank you for your amazing commentary, i know you're only on chapter 13 or something but I appreciate your thoughts**

 **edaygin - Edward is an overthinker! Which is fun to write, but yeah lowkey stupid sometimes**

 **random, gray-faced anon - so, the date thing I didn't really put much thought into lol i wanted them more in the future since twilight always seemed like it was set in the early nineties with bella ooooohing over the Cullens' tiny cell phones and her dinosaur computer she would spend pages complaining about (I have a lot of sour feelings against the twilight saga, I'm sorry lol)**

 **the book thing I just drew on experience. My school always made us come a day during the summer to get parking passes and schedules and books and then I would take those books and yeet them into my locker to never see the light of day again lol hope that helps**


	21. Chapter 21

_Edward_

 _November 29, 2016_

"Alrighty," A curly-haired nurse by the name Maggie said as she capped the butterfly-shaped plastic piece that sat partially in in my neck, partially outside. I consciously took a breath through the cannula on my nose, filling my tight and achy chest with air. I hadn't had to think about breathing myself for a couple of days and it would take a while for the action to become reflex again. _Inhale._ I reminded myself. "You should be good." She snapped off her glove.

I grimaced and swallowed. It felt like I had something lodged in my neck. I technically _did_ – the tube that ran from the hole under my adam's apple – and it was uncomfortable. I was in a constant state of gag, forcing myself to keep calm and overlook the fact that something foreign was stuffed into my windpipe.

But, that's not why I was grimacing.

 _Inhale._ "I thought you were going to take it _out_." I whined my first words in three days to this nurse, my voice crackly and distorted as my vocal cords vibrated against this hell tube.

"During the day we're going to keep you off of it." She explained. "But, we have ventilate you at night because your sats drop too low when you're sleeping."

I writhed in my bed. _Inhale._ If I had a choice to push Hitler or the guy that invented this stupid device off of a cliff, I would choose the guy that invented this stupid device _every single time._ "I hate this." I crossed my arms and pouted.

"Baby," My mother scolded gently from her chair next to my bed. "It's going to get you _well_."

 _Inhale._ "They're only leaving it in to torture me." I argued as I scratched at my neck. The trache tie – a plastic necklace piece that kept the trache from slipping out itched.

"I assure you." Maggie said. "Torturing is bottom of our list."

"You've never had thickened juice." I muttered. _Inhale._ "It's what they use on international prisoners Guantanamo Bay when the waterboarding and jumper cable methods fail."

The nurse laughed at my joke. "Well, no thickened juices this time around."

I threw myself back on my bed and stared at the acoustic tiles of my ceiling, wallowing in wretchedness and self-pity and reminding myself to take regular breaths. I wondered what Bella was doing on Tuesday at eleven o'clock in the morning. _Third period._ She would be in her SAT prep class, the desk in front of her empty because that's where I sat.

"Edward," Mom said again. "Do you want some ice chips?"

"No." I snapped and started fishing around my bedside table for my phone without tearing my eyes off the ceiling. I found it and brought it to my face, scrolling social media for the billionth time that day.

I looked at Mom. She had the novel she was forcing herself to read in her lap – some Jodi Picoult, Barnes 'N Noble thing with a nice looking house on the front and a swirly title. She'd get about halfway through a page when either I would interrupt her, a staff member would interrupt her, or she would interrupt herself to bug me. Her hair was tied into a braid that sat over her shoulder and circles rimming her eyes.

I sighed – something I could actually do now that I was off the ventilator. _I was being unnecessarily petty._ "Yes." I said gently. "That would be nice."

I watched her pop up and leave my room, eager to ease my suffering in her own mom way. I listened to the _whooshing_ of the positive air pressure as the door opened and shut.

After being pumped full of antibiotics to the point where I assumed my anatomy was more hospital fluids than human, Dr. Hot declared that the pneumonia was 'handled' and I was good to be transferred to UW. I was taken to the humungous gray hospital that sat in the middle of Seattle, admitted to the children's cancer department, and moved into an isolation room – a special room made for people with glass-fragile immune systems like myself - and then spent the rest of the day sleeping because I had the mettle of a ninety-three-year-old lady now.

Today was spent prepping for chemo. While the pneumonia and my kidneys were number one priority so I didn't accidentally wear out my heart again, the AML was the biggest monster in the grand scheme of things. That had to be handled. _Soon_. Especially since my flavor had a gnarly reputation of spreading like wildfire to other parts of my body. They reinstalled my central venous catheter under my collarbone, took more blood, and did a chest x-ray to see how the pneumonia was looking.

I heard the faucet that sat in the little entryway right outside my door run and then my mother emerged carrying a foam cup of ice cubes. "A found a game room of some sort." Mom said as she set the ice cubes down for me. "Maybe I can steal _Sorry_ or something and we can play later?"

"Sure." I said, knowing full well I was going to probably watch _The Price is Right_ until I inevitably fall asleep for my mid-morning nap.

"Are you hungry?"

"For the souls of the damned." I said flatly and composed a text to Bella.

 **He speaks!**

"Edward," My mom rolled her eyes. "Be serious."

"Nope." I glanced out my window as the rain started. "Can't. It's a symptom, I think."

"A symptom of what? Smartassitis?" She crossed her legs and opened her book.

My phone vibrated.

 **Praise the overlords! Does this mean I can call you?**

My heart fluttered as I thought about talking with Bella. My only way to talk to her for the last 52 hours was text message. She wasn't going to be able to see me in person until Friday evening. I almost petulantly threw myself back on my bed again at that reminder, the familiar feelings of wretchedness and misery settling around me like a cloud. That was so long to be away from her. _Too_ long.

I felt my eyebrows furrow as I glanced at Mom. _I'll have to kick her out._ I texted back.

 **Of course. When?**

I watched the three little dots popped up as she formed her reply.

 **Approximately 33 minutes?**

I smiled as I imagined her sitting on that bench in the front of the school I would wait for her in the morning at, kicking her boots and chatting with me on the phone during lunch. I glanced at the rain out of the window. That was probably not a realistic

 **Yes, please. Can't wait.**

I heard whooshing and looked up to Dr. Hot, who was carrying x-rays. Dr. Hot and Dr. Bears both had split practices – sharing their times and talents between Port Angeles and Seattle. Although, I don't think Dr. Hot did that until she met Dr. Bears. She popped it into the light board and flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. "How's it feel to be off the vent?" She asked with a smile.

I scowled, swallowing against the reminder of the hell tube. "I would prefer it if I didn't have the trache at all."

"Oh, we know." She rolled her eyes playfully at me. "All in good time, bud." She turned towards the lightboard. "Your lungs are looking good. The antibiotics did their job, so I'm going to give the thumbs up to start chemo."

"Great." I said flatly.

"We're going to continue monitoring your sats. You're sitting pretty at eighty-eight percent and I want to desperately get you back up to ninety-five, if possible." She said. "Any questions?"

I shook my head and stared at the milky, cloudy x-ray of my chest. I couldn't make out much. X-rays were impossible. But, I could see the scar from when I had my tumor resected. It cut across my lung like a comet, its pathway headed straight for my heart.

* * *

November 29, 2016

"We've been literally watching movies all day long." Bella said on the phone. "Both Spanish _and_ Chem had subs."

"And what was the cause?" I asked, my fingers going to the cap at my throat to help my voice come through clearer.

Bella made a noise. "They're thinking the ham that was in the green beans served at lunch yesterday? They made a whole announcement about it this morning. They're cancelling Friday's game over it."

"You weren't affected?"

"Oh, no." She fell silent for a moment. "I wasn't hungry yesterday, so I didn't eat lunch. Jake was though." She said. "He was out today."

I felt my eyebrows knit together in concern. I looped my finger nervously through my cannula tubing and glanced out the window. "Is he okay?"

"Probably in the same shape as the rest of the people with food poisoning." She said. "I was going to check on him later."

"I'll call him too." I said, worry lacing through me. Of course, nobody tells me anything here. Someone in my immediate family would be dying and I would be the last to know. _Just worry about getting well._ I bit my lip.

"How's the hospital?" She asked, her voice quiet.

I snorted. "I've had a packed day of sitting on my ass and doing nothing." I joked.

"Don't overexert yourself." She joked.

" _Excuse_ you. I'm going for gold." I retorted.

"In ass sitting or doing nothing?"

"Both?"

We both giggled. I loved her laugh - like wind chimes on a clear spring day. I looked at my lap, at the diamond-patterned hospital johnny I had to wear. I missed her laugh. I missed _watching_ her laugh. The way her eyes would squeeze shut and her nose would crinkle.

"They're going to start me on chemo soon." I said solemnly.

"That's a good thing, isn't it?" She asked.

"Depends on the perspective." I muttered.

She was quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry." Her voice was shaky like she was fighting tears. "I'm sorry you have to go through this."

"It means I'm one step closer to coming home." I said, eager to flip this conversation around. _One step closer to having you back in my arms._ My chest warmed at that thought.

I heard the whooshing of the door and looked up to Maggie, a bag of yellow fluid in her gloved hand. I saw the pink warning sticker that said in very bold letter that this was a dangerous chemotherapy drug on the front and gulped.

"That's true." Bella said. "I miss you."

I watched in silent horror as the nurse hung the bag up on its own little arm of the IV pole and then connected a free prong of my central line to it. Suddenly, the cancer felt so real. It was no longer an odd danger only mentioned in the abstract. It was here and I was fighting it right _now_.

"Edward? Are you there?"

"Yeah," I said, recovering from my momentary shock. "I'm here. I miss you too."

"Round one." Maggie whispered with a smile as she finished up with messing with my central line. "Ding ding."

* * *

 _December 1, 2016_

"Baby," My mother cooed, her hands fluttering over me. "What can I do to help?"

 _Leave me alone to die._ I thought desolately. I didn't answer though. I instead vomited into the pink bucket I gripped to my chest like it was a life raft, a cold sweat misting over my forehead and on the back of my neck.

I had thrown up a total of thirty-two times since Maggie hooked up the first bag on Tuesday. That bag went fine, just making me a little nauseous. _Smooth sailing_ , I had thought. _This isn't too bad._ Poor, naïve Edward. If he only knew.

It was eight in the morning the next day when things started to tumble downhill. I threw up once, hacking up breakfast. The staff gave me some jello to help calm my stomach and then I threw that up. I drank some water and threw that up. I chewed on ice chips and threw that up. I sat up in bed too fast and threw up. I finally resorted to just sitting still as nausea twisted up my stomach. I threw up anyway.

Chemo didn't affect me this bad the last two times I went through it. But, apparently I was on a super-charged cocktail set out to destroy everything in its path, like some wrecking ball of apocalyptic proportions tasked to obliterate the leukemia. Causalities included 1) my stomach, 2) my immune system, 3) my sense of dignity as I failed to aim correctly and ended up nailing my hospital gown and had to be changed. Four times.

I felt a wash cloth on my forehead and looked up from my pink bucket to my mother, who was now relegated to wearing a surgical mask around me to keep germs from spreading to my crap immune system.

I sucked in a ragged breath through my nose and exhaled it out of my mouth. At least I didn't forget to breathe when nausea flipped over my stomach.

"You want me to wash it out?" My mom started for the bucket.

I retched dryly and spat into the bucket. "What's the point?" I answered, my knees curling inward. I glared at the chemo bag above my head. "I'm just going to mess it up again."

She pulled it out of my hands anyway and moved to the little bathroom off of my room. I wrapped my arms around my torso, trying to hold everything in.

I had a nurse swipe me a pen and a thing of post-it notes from the nurses' station yesterday. _I'm not possessed, it's just chemo._ Is what I wrote and stuck to the front of the bag this morning during a brief moment of respite.

"Mom." I said as a wave hit me, rolling through me starting from my stomach to my shoulders, my skin prickling as another cold sweat bloomed.

Like a superhero with the dexterity only moms could possess, she had the bucket under my chin the exact moment I started to heave. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Oh, Edward." I felt her lips through the surgical mask kiss my sweaty temple and her arm wrap around my shoulders as I coughed and tried to spit out the burning acid taste.

I cuddled against her like I used to do when I was little, my head finding her shoulder. I felt so much better with her arms wrapped around me, protecting me even though the horrors were inside of me. "Mom," I croaked, partially from the trache, partially from the constant vomiting. "Thanks for being here."

She laughed. "Of course." She said as she moved the barf bucket to my table. "You're my baby boy."

"You know I'm not a baby anymore, right?" I said as I sucked in breaths.

"You'll be thirty-five with kids of your own and I'll still call you my baby." She said gently, almost a whisper. "You were my baby as soon as your Dad put you in my arms."

I felt myself smile. "Tell the story again."

Well," She started. "I get a call at three in the morning from your father. 'Sare,'" Her voice went deep as she mimicked Dad. "he said, panicked out of his head. 'Someone left a _baby_ here!'" She made a noise. "And I said 'Well, you _are_ a fire station. You're supposed to accept babies.' And he said 'I know that. But, I don't know what to do with him!' and I say 'You have two daughters and a son on the way and you don't know what to do with a baby?'"

We both chuckled. I looped my finger into my tubing, tiredness starting to press on me from heaving over and over.

"He said 'Can you come to the fire station. Just until the social worker gets here?'" She made a noise. "So I got up and got dressed and I went to the fire station, waddling around six months pregnant with Jacob, already big as a house and Billy handed me this little boy." Her voice went soft. "This little, tiny thing. Maybe a day old. You didn't cry or fuss or more surprisingly," She ran her fingers through my hair. "You didn't sleep. You just looked at me and looked at me. And I said 'Hi, sweet angel, you're safe now.' And then you reached out and pressed your little hand to my chest." She moved my fingers up to sit over her sternum. "And your little eyes slid shut and you fell asleep." Her voice cracked at the end with tears. It always did when she told this story. "And I knew that you found your Momma and I found a piece of my heart that I was missing."

Sleep started to taking hold on me, exhaustion making my eyes and head feel heavy. "I'm glad it was that fire station I was dropped off at." I garbled.

"Me too, baby." She said, her cheek pressing against my head. "Me too."

* * *

 _December 2, 2016_

At three in the morning, I spiked a fever. This threw everyone into a tizzy, because fevers = infections and with my crap immune system and my crap lungs. I just wanted to sleep, convinced that any infection could wait a couple of hours for the sun to at least rise.

Unfortunately, as always, the staff and I didn't see eye to eye on that issue. I was sent through the ringer of testing. Blood was drawn out of my central line, my chest was listened to and I had my vitals done. Then, I had to answer a litany of annoying ass questions in the fucking dark because nobody cared about what _I_ wanted. Which was sleep. I just wanted to sleep.

"Does your chest feel tight?"

 _It always feels tight._ It was a stupid question. But, I understood what they were asking. _Do you feel like you have pneumonia?_ I tapped my whiteboard. I had written _yes_ and _no_ and would poke at the answer as we played twenty questions. _Is it an animal, vegetable, or mineral? Nope, it's Edward's failing body._ That question was a _no._

"Has your back been bothering you?"

I groaned silently. _Stupid._ These are stupid questions. _Of course_ it's bothering me. I've been propped up on my butt since thanksgiving. I tapped _yes_.

The nurse – whose name I didn't bother to learn because I only knew her during the time where she would wake me up for five minutes in the middle of the night for vitals - dressed in a surgical mask and gloves ran her fingers down my side. They slid over a tender area and I winced, feeling my face scrunch in pain. "Here?" She asked and I nodded.

She went to the other side of my bed and squatted down and then picked up a bag that had about three inches of yellow liquid in it. "Coloring's good." She murmured like she was studying a crossword puzzle instead of inspecting my urine. "Output is low, though."

She replaced the bag and moved to pick up the chart that was sitting over my shin on the bed. "You might have a kidney infection." She said. "I'm going to consult the doctor and we'll probably start you on antibiotics."

I wiped my board. _Chemo tomorrow?_

"Probably." She said. "It looks like it's mild and we caught it early. Infections are inevitable, unfortunately."

I frowned at the thought of more chemo. I was starting to form mouth sores from the treatments. They were like having a canker sore, but twenty of them. And they burned like I had just finished gargling battery acid.

 _Popsicle?_ I wrote, hopeful. I liked the cold from the popsicle to numb out my mouth. I trick I learned the first time I went through chemo.

"Not while you're hooked up to the vent." She shook her head. "Sorry, hun."

I crossed my arms and scowled, letting my eyes slide shut. I got woken up at three in the morning. I have a kidney infection, probably. My mouth hurts and I couldn't even have a popsicle to relieve it. I started to fall back asleep. _I fucking hate cancer._

* * *

 _December 2, 2016_

I fixed my hair using the front-facing camera of my phone. _Bella was coming._ That thought kept me going all day long, kept me sane enough to endure yet another round of chemo and gagging and vomiting into my favorite pink bucket. I wouldn't even know what to do with myself otherwise. I probably would've snapped and started chasing people around with a broken bottle or something.

I don't know why I was bothering with my hair. I looked like an absolute wreck otherwise. The sores in my mouth were starting to creep outward, giving me red, swollen cauliflower-y looking lips. I was pale from the infection, which really set off the deep circles around my eyes. And then there was the trache that jutted out of my neck and my cannula attached to my face. I clicked my phone off and put it on the table, disgusted with looking at myself.

 _Bella was coming._ I played with my tubing and looked out my window, my chest turning fluttery at the thought of her here with me. Her hands tangled with mine. Her fingers running down my face. Her-

I doubled over and threw up in my bucket on my lap, sniffing up the snot that came with it. She said it was going to take an act of God to get rid of her when she told me she loved me. I looked up at my post-it note on my chemo bag. _Jesus saves, but cancer scores on the rebound._ I wondered if chemo ranked above or below 'acts of God.'

"You want to watch TV?" Mom asked and tried handing me the remote.

"I'm okay." I croaked, my mouth lighting aflame. My fingers went to my lips and I winced. I either couldn't talk because of the trache or I couldn't talk because of the mouth sores.

"Baby, what's wrong? Are you in pain?"

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. _I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear that._ Instead I stared out my window and my lovely view of the parking garage. When I was bored, I'd count the cars I could see. Sometimes by color, sometimes by type. Sometimes I would try to guess at the owner – like Bella did with her thrift store clothes we wore.

 _Bella is coming._ I looked at the thunderstorm brewing. Bella was coming for _me_. Bella was giving me her _bone marrow_. Bella loved _me_ \- the cloudy, sad sky. Not the sun. Not the moon. _Me_.

A machine squealed behind me and I groaned – half-startled, half-pained, a stabbing right into the left side of my chest and flashing up into my shoulder. _I forgot to breathe._ I inhaled through my nose and out of my mouth.

"Baby, what's wrong?" My mom's eyes were wide over her surgical mask.

I couldn't answer though, I just gasped air and moved my hand to my chest, feeling my chest throb and watch the world go fuzzy as my shitty lungs overexerted themselves.

A respiratory therapist bustled himself in, a small Indian guy that I didn't bother to learn the name of because he was snappy and impatient. "Seventy-nine-,"

"No," inhale. "Vent." Inhale. " _Please_." I actually wanted to _talk_ to Bella today instead of painfully write everything I wanted to say down on my whiteboard.

He regarded me for a second before rolling his eyes and pressing an oxygen mask to my face. "Deep breaths."

I did as I was told, inhaled deep breaths and watched the screen slowly increase and the pain slowly decrease with each breath. I made all the way back up to ninety before the RT dropped the mask. "Inhale through your nose or I'll have to put you back on ventilation." Was his final threat before he hurried out of my room.

I felt a hand on mine and I looked at my mother, whose eyes were shining. "Rest, okay?"

But, I couldn't rest. I heard Jake's voice and then the faucet turn on as everyone was forced to wash their hands before coming into contact with me and then he burst into the room, followed by Dad. They were both in surgical masks.

"Bro!" Jake shouted, his black eyes wide and shining over the edge of his blue mask.

"Shh." Mom scolded. "Jacob you're in a _hospital_."

Dad just chuckled. "Jacob was so excited to see Edward; he was literally vibrating."

I looked around. "Where's Bella?"

"Oof." Jacob put his hand on his chest. "Not even a 'Hi, how're you doing?' Cold, bro."

I scowled briefly before twisting it into a grin and then wincing because of the mouse sores. "Well, when you stick your tongue in my mouth-,"

" _Edward_!" My mother scolded.

Jacob laughed. "I've missed you, bro."

"I've missed-," A delayed wave of nausea rolled through me and I retched into my pink basin. It was mostly water now, since I couldn't keep anything down. Jacob snatched the bucket before Mom could and moved to the bathroom.

"Where is Bella, though?" I asked as I wiped my face. "I thought she was going to ride up with you?"

"She did. She got intercepted by a nurse." Jacob said from the bathroom.

I felt my lip roll into a lopsided pout. I wanted to _see_ her. I wanted nothing more than to see her.

"How's chemo been?" Dad clapped me on the shoulder before taking the other plastic chair in my room, opposite of Mom.

"Rough." I answered and grimaced, my eyes glued on the door, anticipating Bella to walk through it, her hands damp from hand-washing and the wells of her brown eyes shining with adoration over the edge of her mask.

"She's coming, baby." My mom patted my hand again. "Just _relax_."

My cell phone buzzed and I snatched it off my table. It was from Bella.

 **They won't let me in. They say I have a fever and they won't let me see you, even though I said that I always run a tiny fever during my period.** My phone vibrated and another text popped up. **I'm literally outside the door that leads to the isolation rooms and they won't let me in.**

I felt my mouth pop open as I read the text. _Bella isn't coming._ Something dropped hard inside of me. A million-ton weight of disappointment, dragging me down to the bottom of the murky, dark ocean.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

"They won't let Bella in." My voice cracked with tears. "They say she's running a fever."

"Oh no." Jake said, his eyes wide as he came back with my bucket.

"Well, let's see if we can talk to someone." My mom's finger hit the nurses' call button.

A dark-skinned woman with hazel eyes answered the call. She had the RN badge underneath her name one. "Hey, sugar." She greeted, her accent not from around her. "What can I do for you?"

I scowled at her. "Why won't you let Bella in?" I snapped, anger replacing the disappointment, tears on my face. It was all _their_ fault. They – all the scrub-clad employees running this stupid place – were keeping Bella away from me.

I felt my mother's hand pat mine. "Edward was looking forward to seeing his girlfriend." She said diplomatically. "But, now she's not being let in?"

"Is that the little spitfire outside?" The nurse asked. "You guys are a good match. You're both feisty."

"I don't want to be teased." I snapped.

"Sorry, sugar." The nurse held up her hands. "Your girlfriend is running a fever of a ninety-nine point six and her glands in her neck are a little swollen. She might have a cold." She shrugged. "We're just being cautious."

"So, I can't see her at all?" I felt new tears on my face and a machine squealed behind me. I winced with the familiar pain in my chest.

The nurse came over and placed the mask on my face. "Breathe deep, sugar."

"I don't want to breathe deep." I retorted, my fingers flying to my chest. "I _want_ to see Bella."

"Tell you what." The nurse strapped the mask to my face. "I'm here until ten. We usually make visitors wait forty-eight hours after a fever breaks to see patients but I will monitor her myself. As soon as she gets to ninety-eight point six, I'll lift the ban. Deal?"

I threw myself against my bed and rolled away from the nurse to stare out the window. I didn't have a choice when it came to my body. Not in a hospital. Cancer robbed me of luxuries like choices. "Deal." I muttered, sucked in a breath and started counting cars again.

* * *

 **mysticfighter111 - well without giving anything away, i think maybe we will see some other characters? idk check back in and find out!**

 **tomboygirl2 - tbh this story will probably not go that far lol so whatever your headcanon is on that, I wholeheartedly accept lol**


	22. Chapter 22

_Jacob_

 _December 2, 2016_

I watched Edward's green eyes swim with tears. He blinked and one squeezed out of the corner of his eye and roll down his cheek. He had pulled out one of the five pillows that propped him up so his lungs would have an easier time getting in air and was clutching it to his chest, his cheek and mask squished up against it.

I tried to get him to talk, to distract him or _something_ , but the disappointment of not seeing Bella zapped everything out of him. He was like a powered down robot. Lifeless.

It was depressing as _fuck_.

"Bro," I groaned, my breath hot against my face with the surgical mask on. Mom and Dad had gone down to the cafeteria for some alone time after spending the week apart, leaving me and Depressive Episode Dan over here. "You'll _see_ her."

He didn't answer. He just continued to stare blankly out the window as tears rolled down his face. He sucked in ragged breath - the type of breath you take when you're trying not to completely lose it.

I looked up at his collection of IV bags that fed into his central line at his chest. One of them was the empty chemo bag. He used to put stickers on it. Now it was just a post-it note with a cynical quote taken out of the back of Reader's Digest.

I tried to think of a way to lift his spirits. It gutted me to know how hard he was taking this. He probably spent the whole week counting down the minutes to when he got to see her. I tried turning the channels on his television to something he'd like, but nothing was on. I messed with his whiteboard, drawing a well-endowed penis. Nothing was working. I sighed, knowing there was only way to get him out of his funk.

 _Bella._

I stood up. "I'm going to check on her." I volunteered. "She's probably wigging out in the waiting room all by herself."

His eyes snapped to me, first movement from him in about an hour. "Will you give her a message?" His voice was strained and gravely from the trache in his throat.

"Sure."

He pulled over the post-it notes from his bedside table and wrote something down, folded it up and handed it to me.

"Are you sexting with post-its now?"

He blushed, his eyes widening. "No!"

I laughed at him as I held the little square in my hand. "Then what is it?"

"I just think…" His blush deepened and his hand ran down the pillow he was holding. "It's nicer, you know, if it's written in my own hand."

I shook my head. Edward read too much Shakespeare. He was a hopeless romantic. I looked at his room. This one was sterile and plain, meant to show-off how clean it was. Because Edward was the Bubble Boy now. "I'll be back in a sec."

I left his room. Connected to his door was a entryway that had a sink and medical supplies meant for you to dress up in sterile gowns. There was a whooshing of air as I left and then I opened the second door that let me out into the hallway.

The cancer sections of children's hospitals always looked like they tried really, _really_ hard to be Disneyland, but always ended up failing somehow. With the characters painted on the walls and the nurses clad in scrubs with puppies and balloons on them. Like, if they distracted you with bright colors and goofy cartoons, you would forget the fact that every kid on this floor was dying by the hand of their own bodies.

Not this floor, though. This floor was as white and sterile as they came. This floor was for the desperately sick. The last resort floor.

I passed a nurses' station, finding the nurse that Edward went ham on earlier charting, her hand in a bag of popcorn. She looked up at me. "I just checked her. It's going down." She said. "Ninety-nine point one now."

"Edward will be glad to hear it." I nodded and continued through the double doors that separated the stark white hallway with the crazy colors of the rest of children's hospital.

I entered large waiting room that was half-playroom, with a small plastic play area in the corner and half-living room, with couches and chairs that surrounded a large television playing a Pixar movie.

A bald, hospital-gowned kid chased a little girl with pigtails past my legs, shrieking the whole time as they zoomed right in front of me. I hit the brakes so I didn't accidentally steamroll through them.

"Ethan," A blonde woman scolded from one of the couches. "Watch where you're going, please."

The bald boy skidded to a stop and looked up at me with large brown eyes. He was probably around four, maybe five. "Sorry." The girl stopped too. They had the same set of eyes.

"It's okay." I said. "Are you guys twins?"

"No, I'm older." The girl pushed Ethan, who teetered and then pushed her back.

"Yeah, but only by one year." The boy pouted and looked at his fingers as he did the math in his head, finally holding up one. He turned back to the girl. "And stop _pushing_."

I leaned over. "I have an older brother." I said to Ethan with a wink. "He pushes me around _all the time_."

"How many?" He started holding up his fingers again, ready to compare.

I held up three fingers. "Three." _Months._

He mimicked my fingers. "Three." He smiled and then tore off after his sister, a ball of energy. He didn't even seem like he had cancer. But that's how it works. You never knew, until it wanted to be known. Until it was almost too late.

I moved to Bella, who was curled up against the arm of a couch, an orange in one hand the needle in the other. She absentmindedly stabbed the orange over and over, her eyes blank as she stared at _Finding Nemo._ "Hey."

Her doe-eyes flicked to me and then down at her orange. "Hey." She answered back.

I took a seat next to her on the couch. "I'm sorry they're not letting you see Edward."

"Yeah," She said and pushed her hair back. "It sucks."

"I wanted to come out and see how you're doing?"

She sucked in a breath, her eyes flashing through emotions like a slideshow. She landed on frustration. "Well, I'm in a children's cancer ward in Seattle wanting to see my boyfriend who has cancer but can't because I'm running a low-grade fever and if I see him I could potentially give him a life-threatening infection because the drugs he's on are wiping out his immune system." She drove the needle down into the orange and I watched juice squirt out onto her hand. "You can probably guess how I'm doing. How's Edward?"

I plucked the orange from her, the needle still stabbed into the flesh before she tried to use it on someone that wasn't a citrus fruit. I thought back to Edward. He hadn't lost his hair yet, but the chemo was definitely in full-swing, with his fever-blister-y looking mouth sores and the random vomiting and the his sunken-in eyes. "He's bummed he can't see you. Like _really_ bummed." I smiled. "You should've seen him tear this nurse a new one."

Bella's lips rolled into a lopsided pout as she contemplated my words, her eyes flicked up to me. "I can't tell if that's supposed to make me feel better or not." She said honestly.

I sighed and watched the brother and sister climb on slide made for toddlers and scoot themselves down. "Yeah," I agreed. "Things get pretty backwards in hospitals."

"You're telling me."

"Edward wanted me to give this to you." I handed her the note.

She unfolded the yellow square, her eyes scanning over it. She smiled, her eyes going misty. I watched her suck in a breath and let it out.

"Am I allowed?"

She handed me the post-it note.

 _If a girl looks swell when she meets you, who gives a damn if she's late? Nobody._ Was written in Edward's neat handwriting. _–Catcher in the Rye._

"I don't get it." I said and handed it back.

"You don't have to." Bella said and pressed this little square to her chest.

* * *

 _January 29, 2013_

"Hey, buddy."

I looked up from my hands which were dried with blood to a woman with a red ponytail and a white polo. She gave me an apologetic smile and knelt down in the front of the chair. I looked back at her with confusion. "Hi." I crackled out.

"I'm a volunteer here." She said gently, carefully like I was a fragile, ancient piece of pottery who was going to crack if it was breathed on wrong. "What's your name?"

"Jacob Black." I whispered.

"Are you hungry?"

I opened my mouth. Truthfully, I didn't know. I hadn't done anything except sit here and wait for some sort of sign that Edward was going to be okay.

I looked around the ER waiting room like I was seeing it for the first time. I was still in the chair that Mom pushed me into. My shoulders hurt from being hunched in the same position. My fingers hurt from being clasped. My feet were asleep. I had no idea how long I had been sitting here, but it was nighttime now, so I guessed at least a couple of hours. "Where is Edward?" I asked, feeling my eyebrows furrow. "Mom and Dad?"

"You want to come with me and we'll ask someone?"

I nodded absently and stood up with her, my knees popping with the motion. I followed her to a counter of some sort. "We're looking for a status on Black?" She said and put her elbows on the counter.

"Edward or Theodore?" The receptionist asked when she looked at her computer.

"Edward." I said.

"Relationship?"

"I'm his brother."

The receptionist looked at the screen and then at me. I scowled, my cheeks heating red. "He's adopted."

"He's stable." The nurse said. "He's been moved to the ICU."

"I'll show you the way."

I looked at the ER waiting room, at the stack of gray chairs that lined the walls and the television in the corner. _Stay here, okay._ My mother's words echoed in my head. "My mom wanted me to stay here." I whispered.

"Val," The volunteer turned towards the receptionist. "Can you call the ICU?"

"Yep. Will do." She picked up the receiver of a phone.

I followed the volunteer down the hallway. She talked about the weather – practiced, safe words. I answered with grunts. It was all I could manage. I felt numb and slow, like the air had turned into gelatin and I was wading through it.

We moved into a different waiting room. This one was different than the ER. The chairs were comfier looking. The television was bigger. There was a soda machine in a little cubby in the corner. This room was meant for people who were going to be here awhile.

We went to that counter and spoke with that receptionist, who told us the same thing: _he's stable._ What did that mean? Did that mean he was going to be okay? Does that mean we can take him home? I asked the volunteer.

"Usually that means he's not in danger of anymore emergencies." The volunteer said.

I sat down and resumed position to wait for some sort of sign that Edward was going to be okay. The volunteer left and I thought that was the last of her. But, she returned a couple of moments later with a package of cheese crackers and a soda. She then sat down next to me. I looked at her with confusion again. "Do you get assigned to random people in the hospital or…?"

"No," She said, her ponytail shaking with her head. "My job is waiting rooms. I make sure everyone is taken care of." She looked me up and down and I looked down with her at my bloody clothes that were starting to dry brown. "You looked like you needed to be taken care of."

I chewed on my crackers, going back and forth between anxiety and numbness. I couldn't freak out in the waiting room, that wouldn't do me any good. But, I couldn't not worry about was going on back there. _Why everything was taking so long?_

I watched people enter in and out of the ICU doors. They were controlled by the receptionist, who would press a button and the door lock would _ka-klunk_ and then automatically swing open. Sometimes I would watch people go in, sometimes people came out. I watched it vigilantly for any sign of my family.

Finally, I watched Mom appear. She scanned around, her eyes landing on me.

"Is that your mother?" The volunteer asked and I nodded my head as I stood to my feet. She stood up with me.

"Jacob." Mom breathed, her arms encircling around me. She sighed when her forehead hit my shoulder.

A bunch of questions buzzed around my head, but only one bubbled to my lips. "Is Edward okay?"

"No, baby. No." She pulled away, her voice cracking with tears. "Edward is very sick. They're going to move him via helicopter to the big hospital in Seattle."

"Do they know what's wrong with him?"

She actually really lost it at that point. "They think the cancer's back and it's spread to other parts of his body." She whispered, tears flowing freely down her face.

I froze solid at her words, my heart jumping into my throat. _The cancer's back?_ But, Edward said he was sure it wasn't cancer. Why would he lie? Why would he lie to _me?_

"Can I see him?" I managed, my own voice cracking.

She froze for a second, her eyes wide. She finally nodded, the braid of black hair threatening to come undone at anytime. "Yes, of course."

I turned towards the volunteer to thank her for hanging out with me, but she was already gone. Vanished to help another poor soul in another waiting room.

* * *

 _December 3, 2016_

I sat with Bella in the kiddie waiting room as we re-watched _Finding Nemo_ for the second time in a row.

It was about one in the morning now. The waiting room, while never _empty_ , was now quiet as people hung out for their loved ones, curled up on the couches, trying to catch sleep.

Bella hadn't broken her temperature, so she wasn't going to see Edward tonight. Edward got so upset over that fact, he ended up exhausting himself and fell asleep. So, even if she could see him, there wouldn't be any point because he would be unconscious.

However, Bella didn't want to leave the hospital and I didn't want her to have to chill in the waiting room alone, so I volunteered to stay with Bella while Mom and Dad grabbed a hotel close by.

"I hate this movie." Bella finally burst out. "This is a two-hour commentary on peer pressure. Like, D.A.R.E could slap their logo on this and turn the boat into meth and be able to screen it in fifth grade classes across America."

"They already screen it in third grade classes, though." I argued.

She pulled her knees to her chest. "I skipped the third grade, so I guessed I missed it."

"You did?"

"Yeah," She picked at a hole in her jeans. "But, I was late getting to kindergarten because my mom forgot to enroll me, so it ended up evening out I guess."

"Your mom sounds like a loon." I snorted.

Bella's eyes hardened and her eyebrows twisted and I thought she was going to tell me off for calling her mom a name. Instead her mouth popped open. "You have no fucking clue, dude."

"I guess everyone's parents are a little crazy."

"I like your mom. She's nice." Bella said. "You know, _together_."

"She has to be." I said and watched the scene change on the movie. "Edward needs it." I looked at her. "He needs you too."

Her arms circled around her legs and her eyes went soft as she stared at the television. "I need him." She said gently and placed her chin on her knee.

"It's really awesome what you're doing for him." I said. "With the bone marrow."

"It's really nothing." She said and shook her head. "I would do anything for him. I would give him half my brain if it meant he got a long and happy life, you know?" Her brown eyes flicked up at me.

"Yeah." I said, my stomach churning with the familiar feelings of anxiety, cold fingers squeezing my chest. "I know." I looked at my hands, which I had laced together so tight, my knuckles were going pale. I loosened them up and squashed the anxiety down. "But still, it's a big deal to Edward."

She smiled gently. "You know what this means, right?"

"What?"

"If he breaks up with me, he'll be the biggest douche bag in the history of douche bags."

I laughed. "I get it now. This is a plot to entrap my brother."

"You got me." She grinned wider and elbowed my arm. "Some girls trap their man with babies. I do mine with bone marrow transplants."

We both laughed softly. Bella traced her finger on her knees and I went back to watching Marlin and Dory make their animated trek across the ocean.

"What about you, Jake?" Bella asked after a moment. "Do _you_ need anything?"

I looked at her again, her brown eyes on me and then looked back at the television, so I didn't accidentally give myself away. "No, I'm fine."

"Okay," She said. "If you need to talk if you need anything."

I looked at my hands again. "I'm okay. Thanks, though."

We lapsed into silence and watched the movie. I thought what it would be like to just to be _honest_ about everything for once. Instead of trying to hide it. Instead of putting on a front. Instead of pretending everything was fine when it really wasn't.

I made sure that I was strong for Edward and for Mom so they could rely on me to be there when the things got too rough, when the freefall became too much for them. And I was fine. I was fine as long as I didn't look down, as long as I didn't open my own eyes.

"This is torturous." Bella sighed and glared at the ceiling, her fingertips dancing over her knees and her lip between her teeth.

 _No._ I decided. _I'm fine, just fine._

* * *

 _December 3, 2016_

Bella was finally cleared by a nurse and we were buzzed into the isolation area, crossing into the white and sterile hallway. Bella literally vibrated with excitement as she followed me to Edward's room.

"You have to wash your hands." I coached as we crossed into the little entryway. She looked around wide-eyed as I demonstrated how to turn the sink off and on with the button at the knee. I washed my hands really well, dried them and then reached for a surgical mask.

"We don't have to gown-up, do we?" She eyeballed the rack of yellow surgical gowns and masks and different boxes of different sized gloves.

I pointed to the signs that hung on Edward's door. A lot of warning signs about the positive airway and about keeping the door closed. One had a big STOP sign on it. _ISOLATION ROOM._ And then it detailed how far we had to go with the protective gear. Apparently, Edward was at level 1: masks and decent hand washing.

I watched Bella wash her hands and then we

Edward was on his side; his eyes were opened but they were glazed over, a blanket up around his shoulders. _Bro, Bella's here_. I expected him to be happy to see her, given how emotional he was when he _couldn't_. I looked at Mom, who was sitting next to his bed, her fingers tangled up with his.

"Edward's had a rough night." She explained. "He was in a lot of pain and didn't get much sleep." Mom's eyes flicked over. "Hi, Bella." Mom greeted with small smile.

I turned to Bella, who had completely frozen at the doorway, her eyes wide discs over the edge of the mask as she took everything in.

Edward's eyes unglazed long enough to register Bella's presence. She pulled herself together in the same second, but not fast enough that Edward didn't register her shock. His eyebrows furrowed and he rolled over onto his back. His jaw tightened in apprehension as he looked at her and then the door, probably thinking she was going to about-face and run for it, screaming the whole way out.

"Hey," She said and slowly approached the bed, opposite of where Mom was sitting. I watched her hand slip into his.

"Hi." He managed. "Sorry I'm a mess."

She picked at his shirt, silent for a moment as she took everything in. "Obviously I'm very disappointed that you're not in a tuxedo." She said and pressed her hand to his face. "I'm gone for five days and this is how you present yourself? Unacceptable."

He smiled gently at her joke, his fingertips brushing over her hair. His eyes were fully of shiny adoration and he looked at Bella like she was the only person in the room. "I'll keep that in mind for next time." He said with his gravelly voice.

I became very very aware in that second that Mom and I were intruding on what I assumed was a pretty special and intimate moment for the two of them. I looked at Mom, who wasn't paying attention at all, her nose back in her book. "Mom," I said. "You want to go get some coffee with me or something?"

She made eye contact with me and I motioned with my chin at the both of them. _Be cool, Mom._ I thought. She looked at the two star-crossed lovers and rose to her feet. "Sure, baby."

Edward glanced at me, his eye flashing and his eyebrows pulling as he looked between Mom and I. _Thanks._

Mom and I walked together down the cafeteria on the first floor. They had a coffee machine with a bunch of different types of coffee drinks, which was _awesome_ because I was surviving on about four and half hours of shit-quality sleep. We grabbed coffee and then both sat down near a window that looked out onto a playground that was shaped like dinosaurs.

"Why couldn't Edward sleep?"

Mom shrugged, her hand wrapping around her drink and her eyes tracing over the table. "It's the mouth sores mostly and a bit of side pain from the kidney infection he's running. But, really, I think everything was exacerbated because he was upset over not being able to see Bella." She looked up at me. "And he's tired."

 _We're all tired._ I thought and watched kids climb the playground. I saw the same little girl from the waiting room yesterday. My eyebrows furrowed in concern as I looked around for her brother.

"It's so strange."

"What is?" I tore my eyes from the window.

She smiled and blushed a little. "Edward having another woman in his life." She laughed. "My little baby's all grown up with a _girlfriend_."

"Aw, Mom." I grinned. "You know he'll always love his momma first."

She gently slapped me on the arm with a giggle. "Stop it."

I laughed too, my eyes going back to the playground as I scanned around for that little boy, growing dismayed when I couldn't find him.

* * *

 _December 5, 2016_

They scheduled Edward's transplant for the upcoming Friday. That would give him a couple of days to catch up with his conditioning, since they skipped a couple of days for him to recover from him kidney infection and then a day or two to rest from the chemo.

Bella and I went back to school on Monday. School always seemed unnecessary to me. But, it became tedious to the point of nausea when Edward was in the hospital. How could I sit here and even _attempt_ to learn useless information like trigonometry and the history of the Ottoman Empire when my brother was suffering in a hospital bed three hundred miles away.

And then our friends were tens times worse. Everyone was so wrapped up in petty high school gossip and hearsay and being backstabbing bitches to each other. Everyone always complained about insignificant issues like they were the end of the world. _You don't have problems._ I would think. _You think you do, but you don't. You want problems? Get cancer._

"Jacob," Lauren said, her fingers squeezed my cheeks. "Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah," I answered. "Sure." _No, I wasn't. Not really._

"Then what was my question?" She put her hands on her hips, her exhale fogging up the

I looked down at my blonde sort-of girlfriend. She was wearing her gym outfit of a Forks High t-shirt and workout leggings. Her hoodie was halfway zipped up to protect her from the cold, framing the Spartan head that was angrily coming out of her chest.

"I didn't hear a question." I said absently as I stretched my calves next to her on the first steps of the bleachers. We were getting ready to run a mile in PE and were stretching with the rest of the class.

"What," Her eyes rolled. "are you doing Friday night after the game?"

"There's a game Friday?" I started counting days in my head. This weekend was supposed to be free. I was actually pretty happy with how the scheduling was turning out. I was free Friday, so I could skip school and go to Seattle for the BMT.

"Well, yeah." She said, the 'duh' implied in her tone. "They had to push last week's game since everyone got food poisoning."

I felt my lips roll at this new dilemma. I had been good on my word all season. I was at every game. I had only missed one practice and that wasn't even due to Edward. It was due to the jank green beans they served at lunch last week.

"Ja _cob_." She groaned my name.

"What?"

"You haven't answered my question." She scoffed, pissed. "You've been so _distracted_ lately."

"Well, my brother's in the hospital." I snapped back, a little too harshly. "You'd be distracted too."

She froze, her eyebrows furrowing. She looked around like she was just noticing that he hadn't been at school all week. Realization dawned on her face. Realization that the world didn't revolve around her. Realization that there were other people out there with problems that were far bigger than what the social schedule looked like for the upcoming weekend and if Jessica Stanley remembered to bring her pompoms. "Is he okay?"

I sucked in a breath and let it out in a whoosh. The question was like when people asked how you were doing today. They didn't actually care, they asked it out of courtesy. And you weren't expected to tell the truth, you were expected to tell them what they wanted to hear. "Yeah. He should be."

I started on the track and ran my four laps. I let the early winter air clear my head. I focused on the puffs of breath and the stab of effort in my side and moving my feet one over the other.

By the end of the mile, I was pretty decided that I would skip the game on Friday. One game wasn't going to hurt my chances of being scouted and in the grand scheme of things, football ranked lower than being there for Edward and Bella and Mom and Dad. It made sense.

At least, until I talked to Clapp.

"Jake," He intercepted me as the class started to walk back towards the gym. "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

"Sure, Coach."

He jammed his clipboard under his armpit. "I have some good news." He looked up at me. "I have a cousin who coaches for the offensive line at Stanford. I called him up the other day and he said 'Hey, I have some full-ride scholarships to give out for next year.' And I said 'Well, I have this one kid. He's kind of a diamond in the rough, but the talent and the drive's there. He's bringing us to the championship. First time in almost twenty years.' And he said 'Well, I might just have to send someone to check this diamond out.'"

I felt my mouth pop open in surprise. "A scout's coming from Stanford?" I choked in a strangled voice. " _Stanford_?"

 _Holy fuckballs._ I tried imagining myself at _Stanford_. In _California_. _Me_. Stanford. Playing football for Stanford. My head was spinning. It seemed like a dream. A dream of a dream.

Clapp's eyes glimmered and he nodded. "He's going to be at Friday's game."

I crashed back to earth so fast, I was like an asteroid. The heat of the impact flushing my skin red. That's when the transplant was scheduled. I felt my fingers on the back of my neck as I weighed it out in my hed.

"That's not going to be a problem, right?"

I sighed and looked at my feet. "Edward's in the hospital for cancer. He has a procedure scheduled on Friday in Seattle." I mumbled. "I was planning on skipping the game to be with him and my family."

Coach Clapp let out a whoosh of air. "I'm sorry to hear that about your brother."

"Thanks."

"I don't think he can reschedule." Coach's eyebrows furrowed. "I understand family comes first, but this would be huge for your future." The coach sighed. "I guess you have a choice to make."

I kicked a rock with my toe. _Do I, though?_

* * *

 _January 29, 2013_

I was led down the ICU hallway, trailing after Mom. I felt like I was moving through molasses again, like the gravity had been turned off and I was just floating in this hospital, my feet not even on the ground. I glanced at the patients through the windows of their rooms. They were all old. _Edward doesn't belong here._ I thought. _There has to be some sort of mistake._

I looked at the equipment that sat against the the wall between the doors of the rooms. Everything looked so complicated. I couldn't even begin to describe what they were or did. I imagined them springing to life with beeps and boops, like droids out of _Star Wars._

Mom turned into a room suddenly, and I was met by a fluorescent light that bathed everything aglow in white. The hallway was dimmed, though, so the transition blinded me for a second. I blinked one. Twice.

Once my eyes adjusted, I froze at the sight in front of me.

Edward was the middle of a hospital bed, machines surrounding the head like guarding sentinels.

"Come here, baby." Mom turned and motioned to me to join her.

The floor swirled under my feet and I felt like I was treadmill – moving forward, but not actually getting anywhere. Somehow, I ended up at Edward's side.

I started tracing lines with my eyes to the machines that surrounded him, starting with the big blue tube jammed in his mouth. I traced that one to a machine at his side that had a bar graph on its screen. I traced the thing clipped to his finger to the screen above his head that kept track of his heartbeat. There was a blood pressure cuff wrapped around his arm that automatically started to fill with air. IV bags connected to his arm.

I felt dizzy taking it all in. It was too much. I gripped the plastic roll bar of his bed to keep myself from collapsing or throwing up or floating away into the atmosphere.

"Hi, baby." Mom said and ran her fingers down Edward's cheek. "You're safe now, okay?" She whispered. "We'll get you taken care of."

He didn't stir or wake up. His eyes remained closed. The only movement from him was his chests that inhaled and exhaled with the beat of the machines around him.

Mom turned to me. "He's being sedated," Her eyes flicked to the IV bags. "So he doesn't feel pain, but the nurse said you can talk to him." She looked at me expectantly. "She said that the voices help them heal."

I turned back to Edward, my fingers finding his on his chest. They were cold like he had just finished playing ball outside during the wintertime. "Hey, bro." I said with a shaky voice. "You really scared everyone. You scared me, even, and you know how hard that is. But, you'll be okay. Okay?" I felt myself choke up. "Okay?"

I watched a tear trail from the corner of Edward's eye, blazing a pink path down his cheek and I learned that day that you don't have to be awake to cry.

* * *

 _December 5, 2016_

I stared at the ocean from behind the wheel of Leia. It was too cold to go sit on the sand, but I like watching the waves crash against the shore. The world may be a fucked up place with sickness and unpredictability and inconsistencies, but I could always count on the waves hitting the sand.

I had my phone in my hand and was flipping it back and forth, debating whether I wanted to call Edward about my issue. I _already_ knew his answer. He would want me to play. He wouldn't want me to lose out on the chance. He wouldn't want me to throw more of my life away for him. He would roll his eyes and tell me to stop making a such a big deal.

But, I knew he would _want_ me there. I knew it because I would see the pain his sea glass eyes as he told me the opposite of what he was feeling. And then I would feel guilty, because my problems were microscopic compared to what Edward was going through. Compared to what Edward was facing.

I would feel guilty because I knew every moment spent not with him was a moment wasted, because his moments were numbered.

I sighed against my seat, my head falling against the rest. _Why are you such a martyr, Joan of Arc?_ I thought as I watched the sea. I watched the waves hit the sand, each crash slowly eating away at the shore, taking a little bit of it with it back into the water. There was a metaphor there I was sure, but I couldn't tell if I was the ocean or the sand.

I threw my car into reverse and pealed out of the parking lot. I started to head home, but I passed the turnoff. Instead I headed north and got on the 101 that headed out of town.

I drove the almost four hours from La Push to Seattle. I got out of my car when I had to take the Ferry over Puget Sound and watched the waves lap the big square boat.

By the time I got to the hospital, it was almost eight in the evening. Edward had been upgraded to a level 2 in isolation measures, which meant a papery-feeling gown thing that tied around the neck and a mask and gloves.

Edward was looking rough, his eyes glued on the television, his pink basin on his lap. He was starting to look gaunt and sickly. And a small wad of his bronze hair sat on his shoulder. But that's how cancer worked - you had to get sick to get well.

At least, he didn't have the trache anymore, instead a little white square was taped to his throat to bandage the stoma as it healed closed. That meant that he could breathe on his own while he slept. And he was in his own pajamas, probably feeling okay enough to shower. Or gross enough that he couldn't stand himself anymore. _Probably the latter._

"Jake," He croaked when he saw me. "What are you doing here?"

I shrugged. "I just felt like seeing you." I said and took a seat in the plastic chair next to his bed. "How's it going?"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion at me, his emerald eyes startling against his pale skin. "About the same." He answered.

I pointed to my shoulder. "You got something-,"

He looked over and picked up the tuft of hair, his eyes going sad as he let it float down to his lap. He ran his fingers through his hair and came out with another tuft, letting that one float down too.

"It'll grow back fast." I said. "You always grew hair like a weed."

He smiled gently. "Remember when Mom would get so mad at me when it was straight? 'I just got your hair cut!'" He mimicked her voice.

"Oh yeah." I giggled with him. "She hated it when I decided I didn't want the Injun-long-braid anymore and I wanted it cut short like yours." I looked around. "Where is she, by the way?" It was odd to find Edward alone without Mom glued to his side.

He rolled his eyes and put his barf bucket onto his table. "Probably berating some poor nurse into getting me something different for dinner." He made a face. "They tried serving me spaghetti, but I can't eat anything except for ice chips and Orajel with the mouth sores."

I grimaced. "Yeah, that sounds rough." I glanced at the empty chemo bag. _I ordered this cocktail the rocks_ is what the sticky note said today.

He made a noise. "How's school?"

"Good," I nodded. "Although, I have to do my own homework now. So, thanks for that, Edboy."

He grinned his lopsided smile. "Sorry." He looked back up to the television. "I'm a little distracted, you know, with all the television I have to watch now."

"Yeah," I teased. "That television is _really_ cutting into my social life."

We lapsed into silence. I drummed my fingers on my knee and watched _Wheel of Fortune_ with him for a moment. "I have a scout," I started. "Coming on Friday to check me out."

His head whipped around. "Really? Where from? UW?"

I shook my head. "Stanford."

His eyes widened and he jerked on his bed, another tuft of hair falling on his shoulder. " _Stanford_?!" His twisted all the way around to get to his knees and then stopped, and grimaced with pain, hissing with it.

"You okay?"

"Yep," His eyes were squeezed shut and so was his fist. "Just yanked on my catheter a little bit."

I crossed my own legs in solidarity. "Ooh. I'm sorry."

He righted himself and then opened his eyes, which flicked back to me. "Stanford, though!" He shouted. "That's so _cool_!"

"Yeah, who thought I could possibly get into Stanford?" I said. "I thought that place is only for smartasses like you."

Edward rolled his eyes. "After this, Mom isn't going to let me out of her sight. I'm going to be ankle-chained to the bunk bed, forced to go to online school through Prager U or something." He said.

"You have to cut her a little bit of slack - you _did_ lie about having cancer." I pointed out. "Twice."

He scowled and crossed his arms. "Don't remind me." He brightened in the next second as a thought occurred to him. "If you play for Stanford, though, I can watch all of your games on TV."

"I don't know if I'm going to play this Friday, though." I went back to drumming on my knee.

"What?!" His eyes flashed. " _Why_? You _have_ to play!"

"It's the same day as your BMT."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "They literally put it in a bag and connect it to my gasline, here." He held up his central line at his chest. "It's a very underwhelming experience. You wouldn't be missing anything."

"I know," I said. "But, what about Bella? They're going to knock her out. She's going to be groggy and sore." I said. "And you know Mom and Dad are going to be here for you. Bella's going to be an afterthought. She's going to need a friend."

His expression softened to the point of melancholy at the mention of his girlfriend, his fingers twitching towards his cell phone. They curled into a fist in the next second. "She would want you to play."

" _Edward_ ," I groaned.

"She would." He defended. "She'll have Charlie here. And it's such a big opportunity for you that she would honestly be pissed if you missed it." His smile found its way back on his face. "She's a very opinionated person."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, I know. You should've heard her thoughts on _Finding Nemo_."

"She doesn't like _Finding Nemo_?"

"She compared it to drug resistance propaganda."

Edward's grin widened. "She's so weird. I love her."

"She _is_ pretty weird." I allowed.

"You have to play, though, okay?" Edward said, his eyes hard, turning into the precious stones they resembled.

I looked at him, watching another bit of hair start a free fall. I watched it float, deciding I was both the shoreline and the sea in my metaphor and Edward was the moon, pushing and pulling me into the right direction, making me the person I was. "Okay." I whispered.

* * *

 **Thanks for the reviews everyone! i'm glad everyone is liking this trash island of fic. I only write what I like to read and medical fics that are (mostly) true are my favorite.**

 **Anyway:**

 **edaygin - thanks you beautiful unicorn of a person for your enthusiasm for my fic**

 **Longing to Write - AML can met into the lungs but it's next to impossible, but Edward's a defy-all-odds type of person**

 **Siobhan of the Whitlocks - yeah fuck periods lol**


	23. Chapter 23

_Bella_

 _December 9, 2016_

Charlie drove me to Seattle early Friday morning in his car, his hands on the steering wheel as he stared through the windshield, having an internal dilemma with my decision to give bone marrow to Edward. He was proud that I would volunteer myself to help save his best friend's extremely ill son, but concerned that I would have to go through a procedure involving general anesthesia and large needles to do it.

And since Charlie was the type of person to internalize his issues, this dilemma rendered the drive quiet. I stared out my window, watching the sun rise over the Olympic mountain range, clutching Baba - my old lamb stuffy I had since I was a toddler – and my cell phone to my chest.

It was on the ferry that he finally spoke.

He cleared his voice. "You are one hundred percent sure you want to do this?"

I looked at my father, into the pair of eyes that matched mine. My fingers wrapped around Baba's throat. After visiting Edward last weekend, I started having nightmares. Nightmares where Edward was slowing wasting away, his face pinched tight with pain, his hospital gown hanging off of his thin frame. His normal, iridescent eyes that shimmered cosmically with every shade of green were flat and dull.

And then I realized that it wasn't a nightmare. It was real life; I was just also experiencing it in my dreams. And the only way to stop the nightmare, the only way to escape was for me to do this, to help him.

So, I stabbed my abs everyday before school with the shot like I was told. I read my donor packet provided by the hospital about taking care of myself. I read up on the internet about aftercare for allogenic stem cell transplant patients, about graft-versus-host-disease, and other problems that could arise. Which was a lot. _A lot._

"Yep." I answered as I waited for the door of the ferry to open, my hands still wrapped around Baba. "I'm two hundred percent sure."

I was comforted - well, kept myself from completely falling apart into a meltdown over Edward's health – on the sheer fact that once today was done, Edward was going to be officially in remission. He will be cancer-free.

Because of me.

I checked in, left my bag of going-home clothes and Baba with Charlie in the waiting room for safe-keeping, and followed the nurse named Zafrina to a room with an exam room table. She had a lovely coffee colored complexion. She had an accent too. Something I didn't recognize. I asked her where she was from as she took my vitals.

"South America, child." She said and handed me a hospital gown, a shower cap, and a plastic bag to put the clothes I was wearing into.

"Oh, that sounds nice." I said as I started removing my jacket. "I've always wanted to the Galapagos."

She laughed at me. "I'm from a little more inland than the Galapagos."

I changed into the hospital gown and jammed everything into the plastic bag and then left it on the chair in the exam room, trusting it would find its way back to me. I rolled my thick hair into a bun and jammed it in the shower cap, feeling ridiculous in my hospital get up with breezes breezing into areas that shouldn't be breezy.

I clenched my legs together, spun the hospital band with my name on it and scrolled my cell phone. I wasn't nervous, but I was bored and tired from the nightmares.

 **Are you here?** A text from Edward's name followed with six green heart emojis flashed on my screen.

I smiled wide. Edward's chemo regime from last week had made him so sick he pretty much slept the last two days. I had been kept abreast through his Mom, who had lumped me and Jake in a group text that basically just ran down Edward's day. This was the first text I had from him in almost forty-eight hours.

 **Yes. Awaiting the slaughter.**

I watched the three dots appear on the screen. **Your sacrifice will be very pleasing to the overlords.**

I giggled like a crazy person. **Why are we like this?**

 **Because we're a well-matched pair.** I watched him compose another text, but then the three dots disappeared to let me know he stopped typing.

 **I love you.** I texted and clicked the screen off on my phone.

Zafrina gathered me and we walked to a brightly lit hospital room that a big table in the middle. A litany of masked staff members prepared medical stuff on a table, including a gigantic needle that looked like it would be better suited for an elephant and not my bony ass. My stomach felt a little queasy.

"How are you feeling?" Someone asked. They were all masked, so I couldn't tell who was speaking. Somebody started attaching nodes to under my collarbone that connected me to heart monitor.

"I will be better once it's over." I managed and laid back. Someone drew a blanket over me.

"Well, on adult patients we usually just give you an epidural or some localized anesthetic." A woman wearing a lab coat said. I guessed she was the doctor performing the extraction. "But, your boyfriend let us know that you have a thing against blood." She explained. "And this produces _a lot_ of blood."

My stomach rolled as I imagined a preposterous, cartoon-like stream of blood squirting out of the back of my thigh. The staff all laughed at my green expression.

"I guess he was correct." Someone said. I watched someone run a swab around a mask.

"He's such a cutie." Someone else said with a thick southern twang. "So concerned over you."

"Yes," The doctor said. "He was very insistent that we take the best _care_ of you."

I felt my smile grow with the warmth in my chest. "He's my favorite person in the world." I managed as I controlled the anxiety in my stomach.

"You bagged a keeper." Someone said and placed a mask over my face. "Deep breaths." I inhaled once and then twice.

My phone in my hand vibrated. I forgot I even had it on me. I pulled it up to my face to see who was texting me. It was Edward.

 **I love you too, Bella Swan. Thank you for saving my life. You are my world.**

 _And you are my sun_ was my last thought before unconsciousness took me.

* * *

 _December 9, 2016_

"Come on, Bella." Someone said. "It's time to wake up."

I was swimming, but only in my head. My skull feeling like it was filled with pool water. I found the lights and swam towards them away from the darkness. _Edward._ Was my first thoughts. _Where's Edward?_

"He's in his room." The voice said. "You did great."

I opened my eyes to Charlie, who was sitting next to me. I got my bearings – these weird thin, scratchy sheets. The hospital gown. _My phone._ "Where's my phone?"

"I got it." Charlie said.

I nodded and continued to fight my way to consciousness. Suddenly a deep, painful ache seized my right leg. It _burned,_ radiating from right under my butt cheek outwards into the rest of my leg and pelvis. "Oh, holy shit." I cursed and opened my eyes wide. "It hurts."

"Here you go, child." Zafrina jammed a cupful of liquid medicine under my nose. "That'll help with the pain."

I downed the bitter medicine and handed her back the cup. I hooked my finger under the shower cap and undid it, letting my hair fall loose. "Everything went okay?"

"Textbook. They're preparing the bag for Edward right as we speak." She said before disappearing from behind a curtain.

I rubbed my temples. "Dad."

"Yes, Bells?" He asked, shifting around in the plastic chair next to my bed.

"Can I have my phone and Baba?"

Both items made it into my hands. I clenched Baba's throat again as I let the pain meds take hold and checked my cell phone.

 **The sacrifice has been complete.** I texted Edward and then closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep.

* * *

 _December 9, 2016_

"Hi, baby girl."

I opened my eyes to Edward's mom, who I was convinced was the Native American version of the Mona Lisa. She smiled down at me, her slender fingers rubbing my arm.

"Hey," I said and rubbed my eye. Charlie was gone. I picked up my cell phone to see it was about two in the afternoon now. He was probably in the cafeteria. "How's Edward?"

"He's eager to see you." She said. "He won't shut up about it, actually. I was wondering if you felt well enough to take a trip upstairs?"

My butt and thigh was still sore with a deep ache, but I nodded, jumping at the chance of seeing Edward. "I'm going to change first." I said and looked down at the breezy hospital gown that didn't leave much to the imagination.

"Do you want help?" Mrs. Black asked as I got to my feet.

"I'm okay." I said and grabbed my overnight bag. "I'm just a little sore."

I found a tiny bathroom connected to the two-person hospital room I was in. My "going-home" outfit consisted of plaid pajama pants and a t-shirt. Very sexy. My thigh was professionally ace-wrapped and I while I was curious to see how the bruise looked, I didn't want to undo it.

I limped with Mrs. Black out to the elevator bank. She didn't mind that I reached out and grabbed her elbow for support when the pain became a little too much. I probably should've asked for more meds before deciding to take a walk. _Oh, well._ I thought. _I was going to see Edward soon._

We were buzzed in to the isolation area. No nurses pulled me aside this time. I wasn't going to let them. I blazed my gimpy trail to my boyfriend's room, one hand wrapped around his mother's arm.

"Honey," Mrs. Black stopped me before I could grab the door.

I looked at her, half-expecting to get some sort of warning about how Edward was going to look. I assumed it was going to be rough since he was going on two weeks now into intense cancer treatments. But, I didn't care about that. I wanted to see him and hold him and kiss him.

But instead her eyes were shining. "I wanted to thank you, personally, for helping Edward."

"Oh, yeah." I said and reached for the door again. "No problem, um, Mrs. Black."

She pulled a little box out of her pocket. "I wanted to give you something, since you gave our family so much."

I was taken aback by the gesture. "Mrs. Black," I started. "You don't have to do this. I just want Edward healthy and it's really no big deal-,"

"I know, sweet angel." She said, tearing up. "But, I'm not just talking about the bone marrow. You've give Edward _joy_. I've never, _ever_ seen his eyes shine so brightly than when he's looking at you. You've brought a light to his world that can't be rivaled."

I took the box, a little speechless over Mrs. Black's words and opened it. Inside was a bracelet made out of a leather cord with a wooden pendant of a wolf's head surrounded by hand-carved beads. "This is beautiful." I breathed.

"The pendant was my great-grandfather's. He used to wear it on a necklace that showed his rank in the tribe."

"Oh, Mrs. Black," My eyebrows furrowed. "I can't accept this. It's _historical_. It's c _ultural_."

She put her hand on my arm. "I want you to have it."

I hugged her, breathing in her scent. "Thank you." I said. "It's amazing. Thank you."

"And Bella," She pulled away. " _Please_ call me Sarah."

* * *

 _December 9, 2016_

"Ugh," I said as I nibbled on the roll from Edward's tray of food. "I don't know. Marriage has been reinforced by my mom to be this ugly, horrid thing invented by the patriarchy." I said. "I think if I did, it'd have to be an elopement or something in Vegas, because if she found out, then she would _gleefully_ murder me."

Edward giggled, his slanted grin over his face.

I was sitting on the edge of his bed, my un-stabbed leg curled to my chest, the other propped up on the plastic chair and he was laying against me, his fingers clasped with mine and his head on my shoulder. I looked at his line, tracing the one filled with the crimson fluid to the large bag sitting over his head. _Fluid. Not blood._ I reminded myself to keep myself from hurling into Edward's pink basin.

It was actually bone marrow. _My_ bone marrow. Slightly processed using a medical method that was way above my sense of wonder or understanding and put into a bag for easy delivery into Edward via his central line. He had stuck a sticky note stuck to it, like he did with his chemo bags. But instead of a joke, this one just had a heart with _E+B_ written in the center.

I felt his face rub against my shoulder as he cuddled tighter against me. Apparently skin-to-skin contact was frowned upon when you have no immune system, but that didn't stop Edward from trying his damnest to get as close as he possibly could.

"I think my mom would just ruin the ceremony ugly crying." He said, his voice gravely from mucus and vomiting. "And then Jacob would tell the most embarrassing best man speech."

"So, elopement?" I giggled, my fingers heading for his hair, but I stopped myself. I made the mistake of running my fingers through his hair earlier and came back with two large handfuls, like when I clean out my hair brush.

He snickered. "Yeah."

In the last hour, we had played fuck/marry/kill with the cast of the _The Office_ while we watched it on Edward's laptop. That conversation morphed into how their marriage ceremonies would be. And then we got on the subject of marriage in general.

"What about your birthday? What's your ideal birthday?" He asked and looked up at me. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles, but the shininess in them was back. That filled my chest with warmth and put butterflies in my stomach.

"Edward." I groaned.

"Just answer the question." He grinned.

I sighed, knowing full well he was going to live up to his word. "My dream birthday used to consist of the Vans Warped Tour VIP passes, even though they always came through Phoenix in June and my birthday is in September." I said. "But now? Now, I think just a day where I can enjoy being with you. _Only_ you." I pressed my masked face into his head. "Well, and Lenny."

He straightened and looped his arm around my shoulders. He wasn't in a hospital gown, but pajama pants and t-shirt, like me. I think our pajama pants came from the same section in Walmart. "That sounds doable."

" _Edward_." I groaned again. "I don't need you to _make up_ my birthday."

"Well, maybe not." He said and looped his finger around his tubing. "But, it's going to happen, so you might as well stop fighting it."

I grumbled to myself about my boyfriend and his weird sense of self-sacrificing benevolence, while silently thanking every higher power for giving him to me.

* * *

 _December 25, 2016_

"Baby," Sarah said as she leaned on the wall next to the en suite bathroom of Edward's room. "It's okay. I assure you _nobody_ cares."

"No! Leave me be." Edward called in a strangled voice from behind the closed door.

It had been over two weeks since the BMT. While the world decided it was the holiday season and that meant taking time away from the struggles of daily life, cancer it didn't work that way.

Everyone, including Dr. Hot and Dr. McCarty had their fingers and toes crossed that the transplant would 1) take and start producing healthy white blood cells, 2) not wreck him with infections – his already damaged lungs the priority of that concern - while we waited for the transplant to take 3) that the graft-versus-host-disease that he would inevitably get would be mild.

Everything was looking good – knock on wood – so far. He had another mild kidney infection, but his lungs seemed to be coming through everything unscathed, and the GvHD hadn't hit him yet. He had one more week of isolation and then he could go home. Everyone could see the light at the end of this nightmare and everyone chased it like their lives depended on it.

Until Christmas morning - because I assumed God was some sort of sadist that just liked to watch the world burn – when Edward was hit with diarrhea so bad that he didn't make it to the toilet and ended up messing his bed in front of his family. This obviously would horrify most people with two cognitive brain cells to rub together and he apparently locked himself in the bathroom out of embarrassment…and because he would probably mess the bed again if he wasn't careful.

"You want me to try?" I asked from his bed.

I got to the hospital around one in the afternoon. The bed had already been cleaned up - the light, lingering smell of hospital-grade antiseptic still burning everyone's retinas - but Edward was still barricading himself in the bathroom, unable to be coaxed out.

Sarah threw up her hands. "You can try."

I moved to her place next to the door. "Hey, it's me."

I heard him whimpering. I couldn't tell if it was out of pain or humiliation. "Leave me alone." He moaned despondently. _Humiliation._

I tried logic first. "You know everyone has shit the bed at one point or another?"

"Yeah, maybe when they're seventeen _months_ old." He retorted. "Not seventeen _years_."

"You know you're going to have to come out eventually?"

"No I don't." He argued. "I live here now. Call the _Tiny House_ people from HGTV." I heard him groan. _That was definitely pain._ "My address is one-one Mortification Avenue." His voice sounded rough.

I bit my lip in concern, anxiety looping through me. I tried to guilt him out. "But, if you don't come out, then I can't see you." I said gently, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. "And it's our first Christmas as a couple."

He went silent. That set off a bunch of alarms in my head.

"Edward," I said, my voice too intense as my heart thrummed in my chest. I pressed myself against his door. "You're freaking everyone out." _You're freaking me out._

"Okay, fine." He groaned finally. "Call a nurse and kick _everyone_ out. That includes you _Mom_!"

We did as we were told, filing out to the hallway when a nurse got there. Jacob and I started the Quileute version of rock-paper-scissors which was raven-fishhook-rock but in the guttural Quileuten language. Jacob won twice before I objected that he had home field advantage in this game.

"How does a fishhook beat a rock?" I protested.

"Have you ever tried to catch a fish with a rock?" He grinned.

"Alrighty, family." The nurse poked her santa-hat clad head out, her mask pulled down to her chin. "He's all set."

We all took turns re-washing our hands and re-donning our masks. Edward was downgraded back to a level 1 in isolation measures, so we didn't have to dress like we about to enter surgery anymore.

Edward was sitting up in bed, his arm around his stomach and his face pinched and blushed. The red morphed into maroon when he saw me, going all the way up into the black beanie he was wearing to hide his bald head. "I have learned a deeper meaning for the word 'mortification.'" He grumbled, his eyes going to his lap.

"Edward, it's not that bad." Sarah said.

"Yeah, Edboy." Jacob said. "You should've seen me when I got food poisoning." His black eyes widened. "It was rough. Like peeing-outta-my-butt rough."

" _Jacob_ ," Sarah scolded.

Billy just snickered as he took the plastic chair next to Edward's bed, his Santa hat threatening to come off his head.

I just took a seat next to him in bed. Edward shifted, his cheeks lighting aflame again as he pulled the blanket up around him to hide the very obvious fact that he was wearing a hospital-grade adult diaper.

"Merry Christmas." I said and kissed his cheek.

His blush softened, his eyes darting to me. "Merry Christmas."

I laced our hands together and settled my cheek on his shoulder, sighing with serenity and contentment. I glanced down at our clasped hands. His were red and rough with a patchy rash, like he was suffering from dermatitis. Another symptom of acute GvHD. But, that didn't matter to me. The fact that my boyfriend was wearing a pair of Depends because he had lost control of his bowels didn't matter to me.

What did matter was the pulse in his wrist that I could feel against my own and the fact that that pulse was free of cancer cells. I smiled as I pressed myself against him and breathed him in. _Best Christmas ever._

* * *

 _January 3, 2017_

"Mom," Edward groaned from his wheelchair, his green eyes framed by the surgical mask and his red beanie as he watched his mother do laps around the room, scavenging for anything left behind. "You got everything. Let's _go_."

"She's going to ignore you." Jacob said as he leaned against the push handles of the wheelchair. "She has to do this like twenty more times before she can leave. It's tradition."

Edward just fell limp and slumped over to the side, Lenny jostling himself between his knees. "I'm gonna _die."_ He complained.

I slipped my hand into Edward's. He was going _home._ After over a month in the hospital, a cardiac arrest episode, intense chemo treatment, a bone marrow transplant, at least four different infections, and a moderate bout of acute GvHD, he was finally cleared to be discharged – officially in remission from cancer with my bone marrow successfully engrafted with him and healthy enough to survive on the outside.

And he was incredibly excited.

"Mom!" He almost shouted, his green eyes bugging.

"Okay, okay!" She retorted as she did one more pass-through, her hands opening and closing drawers and poking her head into the bathroom.

I was tasked with holding the discharge packet – a tome-length stack of papers that had the total bill (I peaked - it was an eye-bugging amount that was enough to buy an incredibly nice house), Edward's go-home instructions to keep himself happy and healthy, and detailed notes of everything that had transpired in the month he had been a ward of UW Medical Center.

Finally, Sarah announced that she was ready and we can go. Edward almost jumped himself up and out of his chair. "I've decided what I want as my first meal free." He said as Jacob turned him around in a three-point turn and started to exit the isolation room. I held the door open for him. "I want a caramel frappucino with extra drizzle from Starbucks and piece of lemon pound cake."

"We can go through the drive-thru." Sarah said, her hand slipping with Edward's and a gigantic smile on her face.

"Oh, maybe I'll get-,"

We opened the second door to a line of scrub-clad staff members – including Dr. Bears. They all erupted into applause, shocking Edward into silence, his hand snatched mine as he looked around at all the nurses and doctors that had been on his case.

"We wanted to give you this." Maggie said, her curly red hair pulled up into a ponytail. She handed Edward a shirt. "And for Bella, too." She handed me a t-shirt.

"This is really nice." Edward said, a little dazed as he looked at his shirt. _I BEAT CANCER'S ASS_ was screen-printed on the front with the UW Med center logo on the back.

I jammed the discharge packet under my arm and unfolded my t-shirt, a big grin stretching over my face as I read the words.

 _I HELPED HIM BEAT CANCER'S ASS_

* * *

 _February 7, 2017_

"Okay," I said. "The Olympic annual seafood festival?"

"You're never going to guess, so you might as well stop." Edward said, his mask pulled down so I could see his cheesy, shit-eating grin.

It had been a month since Edward's discharge. He was kept to a tightly regimented care plan that included a lot of naps, drugs, a special diet plan to get some weight back on his thin frame and doctor visits. And the addition of lots of cuddles on the couch with me.

I knew that it would take a long time for him to be completely back to normal, but everyday I saw improvement. Little by little, he was getting his energy levels back. Little by little he resembled the person he was before cancer turned him into a ghost. Little by little we were finding our way back to normalcy. And the nightmares that haunted me all but disappeared.

"The 2017 Seattle triathlon?" I tried again.

"Why would even go watch that?"

Today – a very normal Wednesday – I had come to his house after school to do our homework together, as he was determined to make up the time he missed in school so he could graduate on time. As was the apart of the routine. But, I found him in his bedroom, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and his beanie, getting Lenny ready to go out. He said he had something planned, but he wouldn't tell me what. And since he had his license, he didn't have to tell me the destination.

So, of course, I started guessing.

"Can I at least have a hint?" I tried.

"No, you can't." He shook his head.

I writhed in the passenger's seat, clunking my kneecap on Lenny, who I had to share the foot space with. I hissed and rubbed it.

"Are you okay?" His eyes darted to me in concern.

"I would be better if I knew where we were _going_."

"Just _trust_ me." His grin returned. "Can't you trust me?"

I made a face and stared out the window. We weren't heading north to Port Angeles. Instead, heading south and then east. Whatever it was, it was going to be good, since Edward's smile hadn't faded at all since we left his house and that was almost two hours ago.

"I guess." I resigned and crossed my arms over my chest.

Edward giggled and then went back to singing along with the 1975 that played through his _ancient_ iPod classic that was hooked up to his stereo.

Eventually we entered Olympia and I watched him expertly navigate his way onto an exit, turning into an industrial looking part of town. He didn't even use his phone's GPS, so I couldn't peak to see the destination.

"Are you going to kill me?" I looked at him with wide eyes as I surveyed the area.

He laughed his breathy laugh and shrugged, his eyebrow-less eyebrows wiggling up and down. "I guess we will see."

We passed through that part of town, entering what looked to be a street of bars. They were squished on top of one another with people milling around on the street. Edward pulled his Volvo into a small parking lot and into a handicap spot, attaching the placard to his rearview mirror.

"So, can I know now?" I asked.

"Nope."

I crossed my arms, turning to glare at the stick figure wheelchair guy of the handicap sign. "Well, I guess I won't get out of the car then."

"Bella," His hand snatched mine and he laced our fingers together.

I looked at at his face, which was a mistake because his jewel-colored eyes had gone seductively soft and all higher thoughts scattered as I got lost in them. I felt my mouth pop open as I tried to collect myself and failed. _Damn you, Edward Black._

"I love you, Bella." He said, his breathy voice like crumpled velvet as it wrapped around my name. "I haven't had a night with you, alone since before thanksgiving." He said. "Will you _please_ trust me?"

I nodded dumbly and lifted Lenny for him to the driver's side. He grabbed the handle and got out and moved to his trunk. I moved with him and watched him switch from Lenny to one of his mini-tanks that hung on him like a purse and then replaced his surgical mask. "Why are you switching?"

"So it won't get bumped." He smiled, his green eyes flashing with mischievous.

Edward took my hand and we slowly walked together down the street, passing bars and hookah shops. After the hospitalization, Edward couldn't go really any farther than a couple hundred yards without having to sit down and catch his breath, half-fatigue, half-shitty lungs. Wherever he was taking me was right down the block though.

We stopped at a grizzly-looking bearded dude that looked like he could be a lumberjack or a hipster sitting outside of an unassuming gray building on a barstool. _Hipster lumberjack?_ That wouldn't be surprising Washington, actually.

Edward produced tickets of some sort from his jeans and he handed them to the lumberjack dude. "You under twenty-one?" He grunted as he reached for the stamp on his lap.

Edward nodded and we were ushered into the building.

"Edward," I scolded when we came into a big area with a crowd of people milling around. I turned towards him. "We shouldn't be in a crowd. You could catch something."

His eyes rolled. "A two-hour concert isn't going to kill me."

I froze. "Concert?"

He was wearing his mask, so I couldn't see his face, but his eyes flashed and he pointed over my shoulder. I turned around to stage that was basked in a red light, a tapestry featuring a streetlight with a red circle background hanging in the middle of the stage. I jerked around. " _Streetlight Manifesto_?!" I shrieked, my eyes wide on my boyfriend.

"Are you surprised?" He laughed.

" _Totally_!" I shrieked and threw my arms around his shoulders, almost knocking him on his feet. "Thank you so much, Edward! It's great!"

I watched in shock as the members filed out onto the stage, picking up their instruments that included a tenor and alto saxophone, a trumpet, a guitar, drums, bass, and a trombone. The crowd pressed in towards the stage.

"Hello," Tom, the lead singer, introduced. "We're Streetlight Manifesto."

They started to play the beginning of _We Will Fall Together_ the sounds of punk rock and a full horn line blending together in the band's signature sound. _They sound so much better live._ I thought as Tom started singing the first lines.

Edward wrapped his arm around me. "Happy Birthday, Bella." He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "I know it's not just you and me." His eyes darted around the crowd of eclectically dressed individuals moving with the music. "But, I thought this would be a good make up birthday present."

I reached up on my toes and kissed his lips through his mask. "It's perfect. Absolutely perfect." _You're perfect. Absolutely perfect._ I amended in my head.

" _And when we fall we will fall together."_ Edward sang along with the band, his eyes never leaving mine. _"No one will catch us so we'll catch ourselves."_

" _And where we roam, we will roam forever_." I sang too. " _No one will understandddd…"_ We both sang at the top of our lungs, just us two, the only thing between us was the love we shared and the music of our favorite ska-punk band playing on stage.

* * *

 **awww what a nice ending. HAHA SIKE. While that would be a nice way to end this fic, their stories aren't done yet! Prepare to be shanked by the ill-carved KFC spork of emotional mayhem.**

 **I'm also touched by all the reviews! Like, my lord y'all are writing novels yourself in the reviews. Usually it's just 'post faster' which while appreciated, I thoroughly enjoy hearing your own thoughts and speculations and reactions. So, keep up the good work you beautiful sugar snowman.**

 **Also, Streetlight Manifesto is a cool band, if y'all haven't heard of them. I thoroughly recommend.**

 **mysticfighter111 - Jacob is a good brother. Too good? Hmm... *adjusts monocle***

 **edaygin - I'm glad to have improved your day. Fanfiction is cheaper than therapy AND alcohol**

 **crippsy2 - This fic is out of my norm for what I usually write! So, we are in the same boat.**

 **Awallace10 - in typical bella fashion, she will probably try to take on too much BUT if everything went accordion to plan, than we would not have polka music. Hrm. Wait, that wasn't right...**

 **Emerald Alitrex - Nobody's ever asked me that before lol Everyone always asks _where_ is the writer and not _how_ is writer lmao but, I always try to stay ahead two or three chapters and I write REALLY fast. Which sucks sometimes because while I'm pretty good at copyediting my own stuff, I _still_ find sentences where I dropped off in the middle because my brain is working too fast for my typing fingers and I have to go back and fix it. I also have no life. *laughs through the pain***


	24. Chapter 24

_Jacob_

 _April 8, 2017_

 _"_ _Don't go chasing waterfalls,"_ I sang along – purposefully off-key - with Mom's old boombox as I fished a Gatorade out of the fridge. _"Please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you're used to."_

Mom slapped me in the abs as she worked over the crockpot recipe, a half-chopped onion on her cutting board, her smile on her face. "Stop it. I actually _like_ this song."

"I do too." I said, putting my hand on my chest like an opera singer. " _But, I think you're moving too fast_."

"Who's killing a goat?" Edward called from the dining room. I heard Bella snicker at Edward's joke.

I popped out the kitchen, my shoulder bumping into the threshold. "Hey, I am the unofficial fourth member of TLC."

Edward grinned back. "What's your name? Jake 'Can't Sing' Black?"

I looked at my brother, my eyes flicking around his grinning face. He had a bit of the rash from the GvHD on his cheek – the only real physical marker showing the history of Edward's battle with leukemia. He had refilled out his thin frame with the help of daily protein shakes and a vigilant mom and girlfriend shoving food into his face. His hair was growing back. He could actually survive a whole day without having to take a nap. Everything was almost back to normal. _Almost._

He still had multiple doctor's visits a month. He still had to take his temperature once a day to make sure he wasn't developing infections. His oxygen liters had been increased because the pneumonia had made his fibrosis worse. And he had a rash and stomach issues that would come and go from the GvHD.

But, we were almost back to normal. _Almost._

"Jacob 'Tone-Deaf' Black." Bella suggested lightly from Edward's side.

"Ooh," Edward said. "I _like_ that one."

I felt my eyes trace to the ceiling to avoid Bella's gaze, my jaw tightening as my heart sped up. "I'm going to the garage." I announced and bee-lined for the front door.

Everything was almost the same. _Almost._

I got to the garage, immediately hooked my phone to my Bluetooth and played the angriest Eminem song I could find. I had a new project – a '92 Harley Sportster that needed a complete engine overhaul – and I wholeheartedly threw myself into it, letting my rap drown out the voice in the back of my head that screamed the same sentence at me in a Joker-esque, mocking fashion.

 _You're in love with Bella Swan._

I honestly could not believe I was catching feelings for Edward's girl. First off, she wasn't _even_ my type. She was cerebral and odd, like Winona Ryder from _Beetlejuice_. She liked weird music and books and didn't believe in using Facebook. And she hated sports.

But, then there was the fact that she was _Edward's girlfriend._ My _brother._ My _cancer-surviving_ brother. That went against so many bro codes, I was sure. And she obviously really, like, _cared_ about him if she was willing to give up bone marrow for him. If she was willing to stick by him through rough cancer treatments, even though he had a tough time breathing and a harder time existing.

 _And yet…_

I sighed as I fiddled with the part I was working on, listening to the cranks of my socket wrench and my music, my hands already dirty with grease.

And yet, I caught myself thinking about her when it was odd to. Like, when I found something I'd think she'd like at the store or on my phone. Or when I would watch a movie and think Bella would appreciate it. Or when I would think of a joke and my first thought would be _Bella would think it's funny_. I thought about her _all_ the time.

And yet, I found myself tracing my eyes _not_ over her figure – which was _hella_ nice by the way – like I would other girls, but over the planes of her face – her small nose, the tiny group of freckles on her forehead, her lower lip which was slightly bigger than her upper lip.

And yet, when I did see her or talk to her or think about her, my heart would pick up in speed and drum in my head. That had never happened with any other girl before. Not even Leah and I lost my _virginity_ to Leah.

 _You're in love with Bella Swan._

I sighed with my whole body. I didn't know what to _do_. I couldn't like, _talk_ , to Edward about it. He would get all protective over the only girl on the face of the planet who was strong enough to put up with his medical bullshit. And it's not like I could _avoid_ her. She was over _all the time_ doing homework with Edward or watching movies with Edward or helping Mom – who had basically adopted her into the family as her third daughter - in the kitchen while Edward napped on the couch.

So, I acted like I wasn't in love with her, hoping that one day I would wake up and come to my _goddamn_ senses. At least I could lie. I was a good liar. I had _that_ going for me.

 _You're in love with Bella Swan._

I just wished it didn't make me so fucking miserable.

I sang with Eminem and tweaked with my motorcycle – my only two sanctuaries nowadays now that football season was over. We had won the championship game – first time in almost thirty years - and I had not only one scout looking at me for scholarships, but _two_. The one from Stanford and another one from UW. Clapp said they were fighting over me. It was great. Everything was great. I threw my wrench down. _Great._

"Mom," I heard Bella over my music and turned it down so I could hear. "You know it's really not possible for the municipal government of Apache Junction to ask for _any_ records from the NSA – whether they're real or not. It's very important that you know that."

Edward had told me that Bella's mom was a little nuts in the tin-foil-hat kind of way. I felt a stab in my chest when I heard Bella's voice get upset as she argued on the phone. I put my stuff down and paused my music, peaking around the open door of the garage.

Bella was wearing shorts and black tights and her boots, her fingers ran through and up her hair as she paced around. "Okay. No." She said down on the one step that led to our front door. "No, Mom. The NSA does not care about Phil's porn watching habits." She paused and rolled her eyes. "Even _animated_ porn. I gotta go, okay? Okay, bye." Bella angrily hung up her phone and then rubbed her slender fingers over her forehead like she was fighting a headache.

My pulse did the thing where it sped up and I sighed, debating whether or not to go over there and sit with her. My feet decided for me, however and I propelled myself to Bella's side. "Hey," I greeted.

"Hey," Her gigantic doe-eye flicked up to me and then back down to her lap.

"Everything okay?" I sat down next to her on the step, letting my legs stretch out in front of me.

She shook her head. "My mom's off her meds." She sighed. "Again. I'm going to have to call my stepdad so he can count her pills again and force her kicking and screaming to the shrink again so she can have everything adjusted again before she does something ridiculous like…" She let her sentence trail off, her eyes misting over. She stuck her fingers in her eyes to banish the tears. "Sorry."

My heart thrummed hard like a native drum in my chest. I felt compelled to run my hands over her blushed face to calm it, to make her feel better. Instead I sat on them. "You don't have to apologize." I said. "That sounds rough."

"It's…" Her eyebrows furrowed and then she nodded. "Rough. That's a good word to use."

"Do you want to talk about anything?" I offered, my hand going for her shoulder, but I almost slapped it down.

Her mouth popped open. "You know, I do. But, I don't." She said honestly. "Like, while it would be nice to upheave all my issues onto some other person, I don't really want to put you through that." She looked up into my eyes and I got lost into the deep wells of hers. "So, I think I'm going to keep it to myself, if that's alright."

"I don't mind." I almost whispered. "I'm a good a listener."

"I know you are." She smiled gently. "But, you're an Atlas and I don't want to add to the pile."

"A what?" I felt my eyebrows furrow.

"Atlas." She put her hands palm up at her shoulders. "Like the titan? You take everyone's problems on and hold them up. You suffer silently, even though it's backbreaking. It's not fair to add my problems to what's already on your shoulders."

I fell quiet, my mouth popping open in surprise. _Was I an Atlas?_ I knew I was supposed to be strong. I was supposed to be the life raft everyone clung to. It was my job. That was my job in this family. Dad was the general, Mom was the medic, and I was the tank in the war against Edward's failing body. Even Bella had a job now – chaplain. His emotional strength. But did that make me an Atlas? I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I flipped that around in my head.

"Sorry," She apologized again, her pale fingers lacing together. "If I talk too much, you can tell me. Edward does it all the time."

"No," I shook my head. "I've never heard that before is all. It surprised me."

"Well, I like to think I'm an observant person."

I felt my stomach twist up as my pulse quickened. _How observant?_ I twisted my hands up. "Well, still." I said as I mustered up a smile and mimicked Atlas holding up a world. "What's one more problem, right?"

She smiled and shook her head. "You're ridiculous." She stood up and I stood up with her, towering over her by at least three heads. Her smiled faded and her eyebrows twisted together. "Don't…" Her lips pursed. "Please don't tell Edward about my mom." Her eyes darted towards the house. "I don't want to worry him. He's got enough going on."

I held up my hand. "Promise."

"Thanks." She smiled and touched my arm. "You're a good friend, Atlas." She disappeared into the house, the door clicking behind her.

I sunk back to the step and ran my fingers through my hair. Maybe I was an Atlas and I just didn't know it. I sighed at the sky, the weight of _my_ world feeling that much heavier.

* * *

 _February 1, 2014_

They moved Edward by helicopter to a gigantic hospital in Seattle. The building was a skyscraper and made its home blocks away from the Amazon and Starbucks headquarters. We moved too, not even bothering to go home to get clothes, instead just buying a couple of outfits and supplies at a Walmart nearby.

We stayed in a hotel place called the Ronald McDonald house, where families could stay for free if you had a kid in the hospital. What sick kids had anything to do with Big Macs I had no idea, but it was a nice to have a bed to fall into at the end of the day.

I guess ' _stable'_ was good term for Edward's condition, after all. He stayed asleep – or knocked out, I guess was a better term for it – by the doctors as they figured out what's wrong with him, the blue pipe in his throat I learned was called 'intubation' that was hooked up to a machine that was breathing for him because he couldn't do it himself.

I actually learned what all the tubes did as we spent the hours between 8 and 4 next to his bed. I would take advantage of the nurses when they would come in to work on Edward by asking as many questions as I could until Mom would tell me to shut up and let them work.

The one in his chest was draining fluid from around his lungs. There was one hooked up to a bag for his pee and another for his poo. He got fed gross brown stuff through a tube in his belly. And they had him on a _bunch_ of fluids and medicines and blood that fed into his arm via an IV. Knowing what everything helped the churning storm in my belly. I could link each tube and machine to its specific job that's helping Edward, that was making him well.

It was three days after Edward collapsed, one day after he was in the new hospital in Seattle, when we saw Dr. McCarty and a new doctor – a hot, blonde lady. They came in the morning with three other people in lab coats following them. Dr. McCarty and the blonde lady took their places side-by-side at the foot of Edward's bed.

"Good morning." The blonde lady started. "My name is Dr. Rosalie Hale, I'm a pulmonologist here at UW Medical." She introduced the other lab coat people as a pediatrician, the ICU attending physician, and a surgeon of some sort. "And you already know Dr. Emmett McCarty."

Mom's eyes traced over the doctors in the room, a tube of chapstick between her fingers. A nurse gave her a job of making sure Edward's lips didn't get cracked from not being able to lick them and she threw herself into that post with everything she had, reapplying the lip balm to Edward's lips that were wrapped around the tube like her life depended on it. "Good morning." She greeted flatly as she traced over the doctors. Dad patted her shoulder.

The normal happy Dr. McCarty sighed, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. He opened his mouth and started verbally vomiting a bunch of nonsensical medical words. I caught 'relapse' and 'AML' both I knew were Edward's cancer. But, then he went on to talk about chromosomes and stuff that I didn't understand.

There was large pause when Dr. McCarty finished as Mom and Dad digested the news, their eyes wide on each other. _That's not good._

"So, the cancer has spread to his _lungs_?" Mom finally asked, looking at Dr. McCarty like he just rapped in Japanese at her.

Dr. Hale tacked an x-ray to a light board. It was a pair of lungs. "He had two tumors, one here in the superior lobe of his left lung here." She pointed to a spiderwebby looking blotch. "And one in the middle lobe here." She pointed to his other lung. "The one on the left is worse than the one on the right as it's sitting on the left superior lobar bronchus, which is one of the tubes that lets air into the lungs from the trachea."

"It's not common." Dr. McCarty scratched at his head. " _At all_ for AML to metastasize like it has into his lungs. It usually goes to other places first like the liver or the brain and spinal cord. But, like I said, the abnormalities in chromosome eleven has thrown us for a loop."

"And," Dr. Hale added. "It looks like Edward may have a disease called idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis, which hardens the tissue of the lungs like scars. We're thinking that it has trapped myeloblasts – the cancerous cells – and encouraged the metastasis of cancer into his lungs."

"Wait," Mom interrupted. "He has _another_ disease? _Besides_ cancer?"

"IPF is a chronic genetic disorder. Most people don't realize they have it until they become symptomatic, which happens usually when people are well into their adult years."

Mom's hand laced into Edward's. "H-how do we treat it?" She stammered.

The doctors shared a look, but it was Dr. McCarty that spoke up. "We are pretty sure we can remove the tumor in his left lung after we have shrunk it with radiation therapy. The other tumor can be shrunk and possibly taken care of with _just_ radiation therapy. And then the AML we can fight with chemo."

"You're _pretty_ sure?" Dad asked. He had leaned forward in his chair, his fingers teepee'd in front of him. "As in _not_ one hundred percent sure?"

"We're concerned about the tumor location, how much of his lung we would have to take to ensure we get all of it." Dr. Hale said and looked at Edward, her eyes softening just a little. "We're pretty sure we can get him through this _alive_. It's just the _quality_ of that alive-ness is what we're worried about."

* * *

 _February 2, 2014_

Edward would have to be awake to go through treatments, so they started weaning him off the knock-out juice. I thought it would be when you wake up from surgery and they shake you awake and you open your eyes – like in the movies. But, that's not how it worked at all, apparently. It went slowly, over the course of the whole day and started way in the early morning before we had even gotten to the hospital.

I was antsy for him to wake up. I wanted to see his green eyes. I wanted to tell him that he was going to be okay. I wanted to tell him that he was safe here, that we were going to take care of him. _You're okay, bro._ I thought. _You're alive._

But, his fingers woke up first. They danced over his chest, typing like was sitting at a keyboard.

"Why's he doing that?" I asked a nurse who was shoving a different tube through the one already in his throat as I watched his fingers dance from my chair next to his bed.

The nurse looked at Edward's fingers, a slurping sound coming from the tube as they sucked out gunk from his lungs. It sounded like when you got to the bottom of a milkshake and were trying to get that last little bit. "Does he play the piano?"

Mom's eyes widened from the other side of the bed. "He does."

The nurse smiled and patted his head. "He's probably dreaming then."

After lunch, the finger dancing turned into hand moving. His fingers inched up his chest. And then his eyelashes started to flutter, tears streaming down his face. Which I learned wasn't him being sad, it was just the way his eyes were reacting to being forcibly kept closed for a couple of days. And then, around four o'clock in the evening, he opened his eyes.

"Baby," Mom stood up to get into his line of vision. "You're safe." She assured him. "You're okay. We're here." She petted his head.

His eyes focused on her for a brief moment and then slid shut. Thirty minutes later, his eyes opened again and Mom stood up to say the same things. We did that a couple of times as the anesthetic wore off. Sometimes Dad got up to talk to him. I did once, too. "You're okay, Edward." Everyone repeated. "You're going to be okay."

Finally, his eyes opened and blinked and he looked around like he was seeing everything for the first time, his eyes swirling with confusion. He looked like Dorothy after she woke up from returning from Oz. _And you were there and you were there and you too!_

"Hi, Edward." Mom smiled at him, her fingers in his hair. Dad was standing next to her, his hand on Edward's knee. "We're right here."

His eyes snapped over to me, his eyebrows furrowing and his expressions flicking through a bunch of questions. We all watched his hand move up his chest and then his fingers wrapped around the tube in his mouth.

Mom snatched his hand and forced it back down to his side. "No, baby." She shook her head. "It's there to help you."

His eyes flashed and suddenly a machine squealed next to me, startling me out of my skin. I watched the screen above his head blink as his blood pressure rose. His other hand went back to the tube and I grabbed it and held it, so he couldn't pull it out.

A nurse trotted in and I moved to get out of her way. She poked at a screen for a couple of seconds before declaring he was having a panic attack and then injected something into his line and left.

He calmed down, his shoulders relaxing. His eyes circled around his room again in confusion before landing back on Mom and then Dad. His eyes kaleidoscoped through emotions, like a ticker tape of his inner-thoughts. _Where am I? What am I doing here? What's going on?_

"Are you in pain?" Mom asked.

He shook his head and slipped his hand out from under mine, his fingers fluttered around with his eyes as he looked around his bed. Mom's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and she shook her head.

I groaned impatiently. "He wants to know what's going on." _Come on guys, it's all over his face._

He nodded at me and then looked back at Mom. She tightened her hand around Edward's. "Your cancer is back, baby." She whispered, her voice cracking with tears. "It's in your lungs now as tumors. They're pretty sure they can take them out, but they have to do treatments first."

His eyes flicked back to me. His fingers came up and formed a lazy gun shape. _Lasertag?_ I nodded. "Yeah, you passed out during lasertag and were bleeding." I flinched at the memories of all the blood, my heart pounding in my chest. I forced a smile on my face anyway. "You still won."

"Edward," Dad said, his voice quiet. "The doctor's said you should've been having symptoms for awhile for the cancer to be this bad."

"Billy, please." Mom scolded, her black eyes flashing angrily. "He just woke up. He doesn't need to be interrogated right at this moment."

"It's just a question, Sare." He defended and turned back to Edward. "Were you...were you having symptoms of cancer before the other day? Bruising, bleeding, maybe coughing?"

Edward's eyes darted to me for a split second. _Did you say anything?_ I shook my head just a teensy bit to let him know that I hadn't. He turned back to our parents, his eyes going remorseful. He nodded.

"Baby, why didn't you tell us?" Tears fell down Mom's eyes.

His fingers came up and he mimed like was writing with a pencil. Mom spun around and dug an old envelope and a pen out of her purse that was sitting on her chair. She put the pen in Edward's hand and then guided it to the envelope on his bedside rolly cart.

He scrawled down two words before he dropped the pen and closed his eyes, exhaustion taking him right into sleep -

 _Adopted._

And then right under that -

 _Defective._

* * *

April 8, 2017

 _Come on._ I scowled as I attempted to get a bolt to twist tight on the part I was working on. It wasn't, of course – the threading was all stripped on the inside. I sighed. I'd have to go get another part. I grabbed my elderly one-subject notebook, twisted the part around to find the serial number and greasily wrote it down to my 'to-scavenge' list.

"...googling promposal ideas." Edward was chattering like a hyena, seated on my wheeled creeper that lets me slip to work on undercarriages, Lenny parked next to him. He had come out to ask a question, which turned into a full-blown conversation about his favorite subject in the world: Bella. I tuned him out. I came out here _not_ to think about Bella.

I was failing. Of course. I kept replaying our conversation from earlier over and over in my head. She was so upset over her mother. I glanced at Edward, who was picking at the GvHD rash on his cheek, even though Mom told him a million times a day to not do that very thing. And she couldn't even tell her boyfriend about her problems because her boyfriend already had a million problems of his own. And not tiny inconveniences either. Like, planet-sized problems.

If Edward was smart - which he was - he should see that Bella was silently suffering for him. That we were all suffering silently for him. Atlases, like Bella said. But, he didn't see it. His own problems eclipsed everyone else's problems. The gigantic Saturn-sized problem that was cancer overtaking anything near it, minimizing it, dwarfing it.

It was unfair to Bella – who should be able to rely on her boyfriend for emotional support, and all. And that fact was pissing me the hell off.

I threw the part after one more failed attempt of getting the bolt on, watching the metal ricochet off the concrete with a _bang!_ and then slide into the corner.

"Are you okay?" Edward's eyes were wide on me.

"No." I said curtly and stood up.

"Bro," He said, his eyebrows twisting. "What's going on?"

"No." I retorted, scoffing through my nose as I headed out my garage, my hand in my pocket of my basketball shorts as I fished out my keys. "No I can't."

He stood up too, grabbing Lenny by the handle and hurrying after me at Edward speeds. I got to the door of Leia, failed to get the key into the lock on the first try. I just wanted to get out. I wanted the ocean. I needed to watch the waves, clear my head. I hated feeling like this. Hated feeling this _jealousy_ churning up my insides.

Instead, I felt Edward's cool fingers on my arm. I looked into his green eyes. "What's going on?" He asked as he flicked them all over my face, reading my expressions. I twisted it into a scowl. _Read this._ I thought as I regarded him back.

"Jake." He groaned. " _Please_."

I finally got the key into the door of Leia. "I'll answer your question with a question." I said. "When's the last time you've asked someone how they were doing? Instead of them asking you how _you're_ doing?"

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" He scowled.

I sighed and got into my car. "Nothing." _At least, not in comparison to cancer_.

I pealed out of my driveway, leaving Edward on the driveway one hand on the handle Lenny, his eyes wide with confusion.

* * *

 _April 10, 2017_

It was a thing at school to let your girlfriend wear your letterman jacket. There was something weirdly cute about watching them drown in the large size, the sleeves bunched up their arms as they pressed tight against their boyfriends, who made due without, even though early April was still pretty chilly.

I was one of the only football players still wearing my jacket. I had ended it with Lauren, who went after the Zac Efron-looking kid as soon as I hit send on the text that said that it was probably not going to work out.

I sat with the herd of maroon-clad jackets at our lunch table, watching Quil and Embry fight with a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos, flicking the snack at each other in an attempt to lodge one in each other's hair.

"So," Adrian started, one of our wide receivers and kickers. He started with soccer, being a Brazilian kid and all and was being scouted by UCLA. He banged on the table. "We haven't discussed this yet." He looked around. "Who is worthy to be Jake's prom date?"

I threw my head back and groaned. "Can we not have this conversation?" I asked. "At all? Ever?"

Quil and Embry froze and twisted around. "Yeah, dude." Em said, a grin stretching over his face. "Who are you going to ask now that you're done with Lauren?"

I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. "I don't even know if I'm going to go." I said.

"Most eligible bachelor in Forks High and you're not going to prom?" Quil scoffed. "You're full of _shit_."

"I know." Nathan Sato joined the conversation. "Bro can have _any_ girl in the school."

I glanced at the other end of the table, where Bella and Edward were sitting - pressed so tight in the seat together that they were basically on each other's laps. Edward had his finger looped up into his cannula tubing as he laughed at something Bella said. _Not any girl._ I thought as I watched them.

"How baller would that be, though?" Quil started, fluffing up the collar of his jacket. "Like, just show up without a girl, knowing –full well - you could've asked anyone out and didn't. That's some double-oh-seven shit right there."

"No, don't do that." Em looked at me. "Everyone would just assume you're gay."

Kyle Sandusky - who was actually gay - punched Embry in the arm. "There's nothing fucking wrong with that."

"I _know_." Embry said, his eyes flashing as he rubbed his arm. "I'm jussayin'."

Kyle turned to me, a joking grin spread over his face. He leaned forward across the table. "If you are, though, _I_ could be your date."

Embry put Kyle into a playful headlock and the conversation dissolved into who would be the best date for Kyle. It was determined that _I_ was not his type.

I glanced at Bella again. Her hair was tucked up into a high bun with a bunch of loose pieces around her face. I watched her finger loop around the one near her ear. I imagined her in a prom dress – probably this gothic, lacy black cocktail thing with her worn boots – on my arm as we walked into the venue together. I imagined her dancing with me.

I stopped the fantasy dead in my tracks when I watched her eyes meet Edward's and they looked at each like they were the only two in the room – full of shiny adoration for each other, wishing she would look at me like that.

* * *

 _April 11, 2017_

"Bella not coming over today?" I asked when I found Edward on his bunk in our room, his keyboard in front of his and his ukulele in his arms. I had been picking up shifts at Harry's lately, now that I didn't have football practice after school. And to avoid the house at all costs, since Edward and Bella would spread out on the dining room table and do homework together until dinner time.

He shook his head as he plucked out a song. "She said she had errands to run."

I had come into grab my copy of Skyrim for Embry before heading back out again. I squatted in front of Edward and I's television, the room quiet except for Edward's slow song and the clicks of his inhales. But, I could feel his eyes boring into the back of his head, wanting to talk about my outburst from the other day. But, since Edward avoided conflict like his life depended on it, I knew it would be _me_ that would have to initiate that conversation.

I sighed, my eyebrows furrowing. _It was always me._

I heard him shuffle behind me and looked up to see him head to the closet, sans oxygen, his hand already up to catching himself on the wall so he could lean, since his oxygen dependency had gotten worse since being in the hospital and he couldn't even make it down the hallway without it anymore.

He changed his shirt, taking off the one from school and putting on a ratty t-shirt. I could see a red blotch of GvHD rash stretch over his back. It looked like he had a really bad sunburn, but if the sunburn was in the shape of Denmark.

I sighed and looked down at the game in my hands, my eyebrows furrowing. Guilt flipped my stomach like double-dutch ropes. The Saturn-sized problem that was cancer was that big because at anytime, it could take Edward away from us. And every moment that we spent with him, every year he got to live was a blessing. And I shouldn't be wasting my time feeling bad over stupid shit like _jealousy_. I shouldn't let a girl come between us. I was being ridiculous.

I let him get back to the bed, his breaths coming in sharp and wheezy before I turned around to see his oxygen mask pressed his face and his fingers on his forehead. "You okay?" I blurted.

"I'm," He inhaled. "okay." He inhaled. "Allergies," He inhaled. "hittingme."

"Are you running a fever?" I got to my feet and moved to him, pressing the backs of my fingers to his forehead. He felt okay.

"I just took my temperature." He said as he regained control. "Ninety-eight point five. I'm fine."

"Okay." I said and sat down next to him on his bed. "Hey, sorry about the other day. I didn't mean to bite your head off."

He looked at me as he replaced his cannula. "It's okay." He said, his eyes darting down. "If you need to talk, I am always here." He said. "Whatever's bothering you."

I winced. I had two secrets: Bella's and my own. I couldn't talk to him about any of them. "If I could, I would, but I can't."

"It's nothing _bad_ , though, right?" His green eyes were wide on me. "You haven't gotten anyone pregnant or done anything illegal or nothing like that, right?"

I laughed and pulled out my cell phone when it buzzed with a text. "No." I shook my head as I glanced at the screen. "Nothing like that. Just some personal stuff I'm working through." I felt my face blaze with heat and my eyes bug when I read who it was from.

"Go. I bet Embry's blowing up your phone wondering where you are." He pushed on my shoulder, his lopsided grin on his face. "Tell Embry hi for me."

But, the text wasn't from Embry. The text was from Bella.

 **Hey, Atlas. Is the offer of unloading my problems on you still on the table? I could REALLY use a friend right now.**

* * *

 **Don't give up on this story yet! Honestly, the really good parts are coming up! I promise!** **Wanted to avoid the Edward vs Jacob for Bella's affections trope, it somehow ended up in here anyway. Sorry. I promise it won't be as angsty/cringe-y as it was in _Eclipse._ *chugs bleach* **

**Anyway, enjoy and review pls!**


	25. Chapter 25

_Bella_

 _April 11, 2017_

"No, no." Renee insisted. "I swear to _God_ , hand on the _Bible_ , that Lupe was looking at me weird today when I was going to my pottery class." Renee made a noise. "I'm going come home to the trash knocked over. I _know_ it's her, Bella."

"Mom," I said. "You know it's the javelinas going through the trash because you never wrap up the old chicken bones before you throw them out."

There was a pregnant pause.

"Mom." I said.

"Shh. It's her." She whispered. I imagined her slinking down in the seat of her Honda, pushing up her sunglasses like Lupe Hernandez, our neighbor of almost eleven years didn't know Mom's 2002 gold Honda Accord. "She's _glaring_ at me, Bella."

"Mom, this is the schitz talking." I said. "When was the last time you took your meds?"

"I don't need those." She hissed at me. "And this isn't the schitz talking. I know when it's the schitz talking. There was a _black van_ , Bella. Lupe was the one that called them and-," She broke off her sentence midway and made a noise. "Bella." She whispered.

"What?"

"Bella. Bella. Bella."

I pressed my thumb into my eye socket until is caused me pain. "Where is Phil?" I tried to get her back on track, knowing it wouldn't do any good. Talking to my mom when she was off her meds was trying to talk to a puppy on quaaludes.

"You know Phil's on a…" Her sentence broke off again. "She disappeared! Bella! She disappeared!"

"Are you hearing voices?"

"Just the one." She said. "It sounds like you. _'Don't do that, Renee'_ and _'Don't go there, Renee.'"_ She laughed. "Naggy, like you."

"Mom." I groaned. "You need to take your meds. Have you seen Harold lately? How are your talks with Harold?"

"Harold said some _bad things_ about Uncle Warren and I stopped going because I didn't like the way he was looking at me and-," She cut off again. "Oh, wait. She's back."

"But you _liked_ Harold. He was into the Grateful Dead like you."

"I did. But, I don't need him. Bella," She scoffed. "I'm _fine_."

"Mom, you're hearing voices again and you think Lupe, our _ancient, blind_ neighbor is out to get you. That is the _schitz_."

"She's staring at me, Bella!"

"She can't see!" I almost shouted back, thankful Charlie was on evening shifts this week and that I was alone. "She's blind!"

Renee sucked in a deep breath and I braced myself for the verbal assault. "Well, if you're just going to be a _fucking whore bitch_ about it," She growled, menacingly. "Then I'll just take care of it myself. Goddamn, Bella. I expected a _little_ bit more support from you."

"Mom-,"

But, the phone disconnected. I looked at my screen until the tears blurred it into an edgeless blob, the black of the phone bleeding into the white of my hand. I chucked it to the ground and pressed my hands to my forehead, my body wracking with sobs.

I was sitting on the hardwood facing my window, my back against my bed. I knew, _knew_ the aggression and the hostility was just the schizophrenia. They were symptoms, like the voices and the delusions. Just symptoms of the disease. She didn't actually mean the words she spoke.

It didn't stop the stab of pain. Each word like a javelin right through my temple, straight into my heart. They ricocheted around in my head. _Fucking whore bitch._

I rocked back and forth, my hands still pressed to my forehead, tears streaming down my face. The conversations were getting worse. _She_ was getting worse. She needed _help_. She was going to do _something._ She was on a pathway to destruction, screaming down a racetrack on the way to a full psychotic episode that was going to end up with someone hurt.

And I wasn't there to absorb the blow.

I flinched, my teeth grinding in my head as the ghosts of psychotic episodes past reared their ugly heads. I lifted my fingers into my hair, right to a little scar above my ear. I sobbed harder, snot and tears mixing on face.

I picked up my phone and navigated to Phil's contact, pulling myself together as the phone rang. "Hey, it's Phil. Leave a message." His voicemail chirped happily.

"Hey, Phil. It's Bella. Call me back when you can. Thanks." I said, completely normal. I hung up and almost chucked my phone again. He _promised_. Phil promised me he would take care of my mother. He promised that I could have a normal year. He promised he loved her, despite her weird behavior.

I watched my phone ring, hoping it was Phil. Renee, with a picture of her in a big, floppy sunhat from the last time we went to Quartzsite to look for geodes flashed on my screen. I contemplated not answering it. But, I couldn't _do_ that. "Hello?"

"Bella," She hissed. "The black van is back."

I ground my teeth in my head. _Fucking whore bitch_. She didn't even say sorry. She didn't even care what those words did to me. The way they tore at me, eroded me little by little. She didn't care. The _schitz_ didn't care.

I sucked in a deep breath, controlling my voice so it came through even. I hated to lie, but I was ridiculously good at it. I had to be, for my mother's sake. "Describe it to me." I almost whispered, pulling my knees to my chest.

"Black, tinted windows." She said.

"Are you sure it's not the Bustamantes' van from across the street? Is it a Chrysler?"

"Yeah, it's a Chrysler." She said.

"I think the NSA would use a nicer van."

"What if that's what they _want_ you to think?"

"Mom, when's the last time you took a shower?" I asked, trying to distract her.

"I'm very-," Her sentence fractured again. "People. Man. Across the street. Man." Her words tumbled over each other as her jumbled thoughts tried to get them out. "Wait. Wait. I think that's just Kevin. Hi, Kevin!"

"Mom, you need to go inside the house."

She made a noise. "But, they can hear me. They're all tapped into our computer. And Lupe watches for them. Dumb bitch-," She growled lowly.

"Mom," I said, my voice pleading. "Please, please don't do anything to Lupe. She's a nice lady. _Please_."

"Nice lady my ass." Renee scoffed.

"Why don't you try meeting her? You know, instead of listening to the voice in your head and your warped sense of reality telling you she's evil?" I tried.

"Bella," She snapped at me. "Get a grip."

I almost pulled my hair out. "Mom. Where is Phil?"

"Phil?" She said, confused. "Phil? My Phil? Where is Phil? Hmm."

"Please, can you go find Phil?"

"I don't _need_ Phil." She snapped again. "I don't _need_ you either. I call you because I want to, not because I have to. I'm done. Done. Done." Her words started tumbling out again and I braced myself again, my eyes squeezing shut. "I should've fucking _swallowed_ you. You worthless piece of-,"

I hung up this time, my skin prickling with her words. I pressed my head to my knees and started to cry again. I cried until I felt like I had cried myself dry. Until my skin felt like it was too tight and was suffocating me. I scratched at it with my fingernails, leaving welts.

I wanted Edward. I wanted his arms around me as I cried into his shoulder. I wanted to tell him about all the times that my mother's schizophrenia turned into a monster and hurt me, physically and emotionally. I wanted him to banish it away, smooth my hair back, look into my eyes and tell me it was going to be okay.

But, every time I would pick up the phone after I just hung up with my mother, I would stop myself. Freeze with my finger over the call button, Edward's pained eyes and bald head filling my mind up until I felt like a balloon about ready to explode. And then I would feel worse for wanting to unload myself on him like that. He had enough to deal with without me piling it on.

So, I decided to do what most adults did when it came to dealing with their issues – drown them with alcohol.

I got to my feet and grabbed my cell phone, moved to the liquor cabinet in the kitchen and pulled out a small bottle of tequila from the back of the pile. Charlie was a dark whisky and beer man. He wouldn't notice a bottle of tequila blanc going missing.

I tucked my prize into my jacket and rode to First Beach in Earl, parking and finding a private area in the sand where I could watch the waves, get drunk, and forget that my mother was slowly spiraling out of control.

I was two bitter, horrible swigs in when I realized that getting drunk on the beach by myself was a miserable experience. Renee's words were still buzzing around my brain, stinging me over and over, pounding right between my eyes. _Fucking whore bitch_. I drank faster, letting my tears blur the sunset into the ocean, turning it into a bleeding watercolor painting.

 _Maybe I could call someone._ I thought when my fingers started to go numb and my lips and middle felt warm. _But who?_ I felt my eyebrows furrow. Edward was automatically off the table. Who did that leave?

I picked up my cell phone. I had missed another call from my Mom. Probably calling me to tell me what a waste of human anatomy I was and complain about our neighbors' choice of vehicles again. Instead I navigated to my contacts.

I had ten of them in total. One of which was the school for when I had to call in sick. Out the remaining nine, only three weren't family – Edward, Jacob, and Jessica Stanley, who of which I think I texted once about a project and then never spoke to again.

Edward was my boyfriend, but he was also my best friend. My eyebrows furrowed. I went to him for anything. Why couldn't I get myself to go to him about this too?

I started to cry again. I just wanted someone to _understand_. To understand how hard it was to sit at the sidelines and watch someone suffer with something they couldn't control. I just wanted someone to understand how hard it was to be that person who had to come behind and pick up the pieces. I bit my lip as a face popped into my head.

 _Jake._

I groaned and drank again. I didn't want to do that to him _either_. He carried everything and everyone on his shoulders. He was a cold faucet over a burn – unrelenting, pouring himself over. There had to be a point where the water source ran out, though, right? There had to be a point where the sink overflowed. _Right?_

Still, though. If there was anyone that would understand, it'd be him.

I drank another swig and texted him. If he didn't text back, that was fine. I could suffer alone. I've been doing it for eighteen years.

 **Hey, Atlas. Is the offer of unloading my problems on you still on the table? I could REALLY use a friend right now.**

He texted back a moment later. **I'd have to move some appointments around, but I think Dr. Black can squeeze you in.**

I scoffed in laughter as I imagine Jake as a shrink. **I'm at First Beach drowning my sorrows if you want to join me.**

 **Be there in a sec.**

I put my phone down and watched the waves. There was something cathartic about watching the water lap the shore. Over and over, the ocean meeting the shoreline. I glanced at the bottle of tequila that was two thirds gone now. It might've also been the alcohol.

"You were serious when you said that you were drowning your sorrows."

I looked up to Jacob, who was dressed like he had just come from basketball practice – Jordan high-tops, a pair of loose basketball shorts and a ratty t-shirt. He took a seat next to me on the sand.

"I'm always serious." I said and offered him the bottle. "You want some?"

"I'm good, thanks." He smiled, which faded. "Everything okay? I mean, I know that's probably a stupid question since you're sitting on the beach with alcohol and that's a pretty good indicator that you've hit rock bottom. But, still…"

"Is this rock bottom?" My eyebrows furrowed at the tequila. "I couldn't tell."

"You tell me."

I sighed and looked back out to the waves. "I don't think it's rock bottom." I said. "I think my life is the Rocky Mountains where I can't tell where rock bottom is because everything sits a mile over sea level."

"You…kind of lost me in that metaphor."

"Up," I put my hand in the air. "and down. It's my life. Up and down. Like the mountains."

"Is it your mom?"

 _I should've fucking swallowed you._ I started to cry, tears hot on my face and nodded, the ocean going blurry again. I felt a hand on my back, rubbing small circles.

I hated to lie. And I hated it because I did it so often with my mother. I lied to her when she would ask me to do something absurd and I would tell her that I did it. Or when she would realize that they went off on me and apologized for it and I told her it didn't bother me. I lied to the medical staff hired to take care of her when they would ask if I knew how long she'd been without medication and I would tell them that I didn't know, even though I counted her pills everyday. I lied to people when they asked about the finger-shaped bruises on my arm or the welts I would leave by the force of my own fingernails. I lied to Charlie when she would slip up throughout the years, assuring him everything was fine so I wouldn't be separated from her.

But, the worst was the lies I told myself. That everything was fine. That I had control, when I didn't. That was the worst lie, in my opinion and I told it so often to myself that it started to sound like the truth in my own head. I never had control and I never would. It was a choice that Renee had to make herself. It wasn't something I could do for her.

"Jacob, real talk for a second." I said suddenly as I continued to watch the waves. "Have you ever been hit by your parents?"

"Well, I feared my dad's belt on my bottom growing up-,"

"No," I shook my head. "Like popped in the head so hard you lost consciousness?" My fingers went into my hair again, to my scar. "Hit so hard you bled?"

He was silent for a long moment. I could feel him oscillate between seething and despondency. "No, Bella." He finally whispered. "I haven't."

I looked up into his eyes, which were so brown they were black and wide as discs on me. "Well, I have." I said, speaking the truth about my scar for the first time in my entire existence. "And it fucking sucks."

* * *

 _April 11, 2017_

I got drunk. Not the medicated-black-out kind of drunk like what happened last Halloween. This was the loose-lipped-happy kind of drunk that made my ears buzz and my chest warm and the small fire that Jacob set up in one of the many fire pits on the beach glow gold.

After thoroughly unloading myself onto Jacob, I felt a lot better, _freer_. I talked about things I wouldn't normally dare admit into actual words. But, Jacob was correct: he was a good listener. He was an amazing listener. And a better friend.

And then we got off the subject of my screwed up life. Half due to the tequila, half due to Jacob, who made everything funny. And did an amazing job of distraction. He could be apart of a bomb disposal team; he was that good at diffusion. I felt like bubble, floating and floating all the way up to the atmosphere.

"Edward's a good kisser." I allowed. Our conversation, which had taken every turn it could possibly go, landed on everyone's favorite subject: sex. "It's the, um, _endurance_ on the other part we have to work on."

Jacob groaned, his hands covering his face. "I do not want to hear this about my _brother_." He looked at me suddenly, a thought occurring to him, his copper-color skin reflecting the fire, turning him otherworldly. "Did you lose it to him?" He whispered.

I looked around the empty beach and then leaned forward. "Why are you whispering? We're all alone."

Jacob laughed as he looked around. "I guess we are."

"I did not." I answered his question. "I lost my virginity to my camp counselor between freshman and sophomore year. We did it under a rowboat."

"That's…odd."

I shrugged as I watched the waves, were starting to rock back and forth now that I was satisfactorily sloshed. A mischievous smile made its way over my face, but I shrugged casually. "She was cute in a Zooey Deschanel kind of way."

Jacob's eyes widened. "You lost your virginity to a _girl_?"

I laughed at his expression and then squinted at the rocking waters. "Is it bad I don't remember her name?"

He shook his head. "I guess not."

"What about you?" I elbowed Jacob into the arm. "Did you _American Pie_ it away? Hooker?"

Jacob laughed and then looked at his hands. "No," He shook his head. "There was a girl here on the rez that I dated for a little bit off and on. Her name was Leah. I lost it to her."

"Leah?" I repeated. I had heard that name before. One of Charlie's friends, I think. I sifted through my drunk thoughts. "Clearwater?"

Jacob raked his fingers through his hair. "Yeah," He said. "Edward stayed in this transitional facility in PA while he was getting off the trache from April-ish of twenty-fourteen to July. I spent a lot of time at Harry's shop during that time." He shrugged.

"That's why you're so good at cars." I nodded, putting it together.

"Well," He flexed his bicep. "I'm just _that_ talented too."

"Speaking of talent," I said. "Where do you think you're going to go for school?"

I watched him sigh with his whole body, his eyebrows furrowing. "I don't know. UW makes the most sense. It's closer to home."

"But…" I started for him.

"But…" His hands came up. " _Stanford_."

"Then why not go with Stanford?"

He sighed again. "You know we have sisters, right?"

"Yeah. Rachel and Rebecca."

"Do you know why they never come home?"

I shook my head, a little lost at his train of thought. "Aren't they like twelve years older than you guys or something?"

"Thirteen, actually. But, we never see them because Mom never tells them anything about Edward. She just lies to them. 'He's fine. Just fine. We're all fine.'" He shook his head. "He literally has to be dying for my mother to pick up the phone and say something to them. I'm pretty sure they don't even know he went through cancer again unless he told them himself, which I'm pretty sure he didn't because he's like Mom in that way." He sighed. "I just don't want to end up like them, being kept out of the loop to protect me. Being kept out of the loop until it's too late."

I rubbed my hands on my jeans. "You can still go to Stanford and still be in the loop."

"I know." He looked at his hands. "But, I wouldn't want to go if Edward couldn't come with, you know?"

I thought about that for a moment, chewing on it through a haze of drunken thoughts. Edward was set to graduate this year. He had made up all of his assignments that he missed, got his days missed waived by the principal and worked with his teachers on homework he'd have to miss for his appointments.

However, that didn't mean he was going to go to college in the fall. His immune system was still developing and he needed to be within arm's reach of the physicians who knew him in case something happened. He relied on his caretakers – his mother and me, sort of – to assist him with daily stuff. He wasn't exactly ready to stake it out on his own.

But, that shouldn't stop Jacob. He didn't have those same limitations. That wasn't fair to him. I looked back onto the water. _That's not what Edward would want._

"Edward would want you to go to Stanford." I almost whispered.

"It's not Edward's choice." He grumbled. "It's _my_ choice."

My phone rang in my lap and I picked it up, expecting my mother and saw Phil and his photo – with his dirty blonde hair and striking blue eyes – flash on my screen. "Hello? Phil?"

"Bella," He greeted. "I got your message."

"Have you talked to Mom?" I said rushed, my words coming out fast and slurred.

"Yeah," He said. "I got her."

"She hasn't been taking her meds." I stood up and paced around, kicking up gray sand. The light bubbly feeling in my chest was replaced with the familiar dread and hollowness that I associated with Renee's schizophrenia. "She's been calling all day."

"I know." He said. "I'm sorry. I went up to Flagstaff for a conference last week and just got back today. Found her in the front yard, staking out our neighbors." He laughed.

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah," He said. "She's sleeping now. Are you okay, Bella?"

 _Fucking whore bitch._ I almost choked up again, my fingernails running over my skin to keep myself together. "Yeah, I'm okay."

"You sound…drunk?"

"Just tired." I managed. "Thanks for calling me back, Phil."

"No problem, Liberty Bell. Get some rest."

"Thanks." I hung up the phone and sat back down next to Jacob. The world was starting to spin and the fire didn't look inviting anymore. It looked cold and predatory, like staring in the pits of hell.

I felt Jacob's hand on mine and he lifted it off. "You're scratching welts."

I looked down to little red lines on my skin and made a noise. "I used to cut…before…" I winced. "But, you tend to fear blood after waking up in a puddle of your own…" The words tumbled out unchecked, half-slurred and bitter with honesty and misery.

"Bella," Jacob put his arm around my shoulder. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Because I was scared she would be locked up." I whispered, my eyes misting with tears. "I was scared that she would be taken away from me. I do _love_ her. I love her with all my heart."

He fell silent, his hand running over my shoulder. I let the waves calm me back down, suddenly feeling really tired. "I think I'm ready to go home."

* * *

 _April 11, 2017_

I pressed my socked feet to the padded ceiling of Jacob's Mustang as I laid on his back seat. I had taken off my boots and was wearing two different socks – a pink polka dotted one and a neon green one. I wiggled my toes and sang very loudly to the Killers, which I had going on Jacob's stereo.

Jacob had corralled me to his car while he figured out how to get my truck with me not driving it home. I told him I could get an Uber, but he said they didn't run in La Push. I offered to call a cab – also didn't run in La Push. I told him I could drive, to which he said "That's fucking stupid, Bella. You're drunk."

I _was_ drunk. And I was definitely feeling like it now. My head swam and my thoughts felt heavy when I formed them in my head. I wanted to do nothing but fall asleep. _Maybe sing karaoke first? Get McDonald's?_ My stomach growled at the thought of greasy, horrible fast food.

I popped up and stuck my head out of the window, finding Jacob pacing around next to car. "Can we get McDonald's?" I put my chin on the edge of the window.

He was scowling, though. He groaned in frustration. "I'll just…I'll explain it to you when we pick you up, okay?"

"Who are we picking up?" I asked with a wave. _Did he hear my question about McDonald's?_

"Edward." Jacob turned once he hung up, his hulking figure looking downright menacing in the low light. I wouldn't want to come across _him_ in a dark alley.

A shot of horror rang through me like a gong. My already swimming head felt like snow globe as it shook up with emotions. "Edward?! Why would you call him? Why would you do that?" I asked and got out of the car, crunching on the pavement with no shoes.

"I tried calling others first," Jake said. "But, nobody's picking up."

"But, I texted _you_ because I didn't want to unload on _Edward_ and he's going to be upset that I'm out here by myself and-," I felt my hands go to my forehead in panic as I tried to figure out how to get out of this. "You have to call him back." I motioned to his phone. "Tell him 'nevermind, it was prank' or something."

"I'll handle Edward." He put his hand on my shoulder and gently guided me back into the backseat of his car. "Just chill, okay?"

I got back into the seat, flopping on my back across the bench. I put a socked foot – the pink polka dotted one on the ceiling – and focused hard. _He's going to be mad._ I thought as I squinted at it. I scowled at myself, my arms circling around me. "Join the club." I whispered and closed my eyes.

* * *

 **The salt in the reviews is delicious. I LOVE salty reviews. Means I'm doing my job as a writer correctly hahaha fear not it will get better (I DID say I was an ExB stan) or will it get worse? *slides on tinfoil hat***

 **Anyway, a bit of character development for ol' Bells here. I think this adds some clarity. Let's see what Edward does with all of this? HmMmMmMm**


	26. Chapter 26

_Edward_

 _April 11, 2017_

I had finished my homework for the evening and was plucking out 'Mad World' by ear on my ukulele, thinking about getting ready for bed, when I watched my cell phone flash with Jake's name. My eyebrows furrowed and then I rolled my eyes, thinking about just silencing it.

Jake had been so _goddamn_ moody lately and I couldn't figure out what was bothering him. He was avoiding me – probably so I wouldn't figure it out. Everything was back to normal - for the most part – I still had a laundry list of shit to do everyday to keep my failing body from failing more. But, for _him_ , at least, everything was back to normal – I was home, Mom was home, we were a mostly-normal family again.

I thought at first that he was upset that football was over. But, then he ended it with Lauren Mallory and I started to think it was a girl problem. But, he usually was pretty open about his girl problems. I was at a loss, thought, with whatever it was. He wouldn't tell me. _Nobody tells me anything._ Except for Jacob. Jacob told me everything. I wondered what it was for him to change so suddenly like he did.

"Hello?" I answered my phone.

"Hey, bro." He said. "Get ready with Lenny, we're going to come by and pick you up."

I groaned. "I don't really want to go out, Jake." I said as I looked at my room, already pretty drained from the day at school.

I was determined to go to school and finish this school year - even though cancer tried to wreck it - but everyday I felt like I was running off of fumes. I tried not to push myself though, knowing that would only lead to infections and that would only set me back further.

I heard him sigh. "Bella's drunk." He said remorsefully. "She drove herself to First Beach, but she can't drive herself home. I need you to drive Leia, so I can take her truck home."

A bunch of alarms went off in my head and I put down my uke and sat up. "Why is she drunk? Why is she at First Beach?" I asked, my stomach churning. "Why is she with _you_?"

"I'll just…" He sucked in a breath. "I'll explain it to you when we pick you up, okay?"

He disconnected the call and I stared at it in confusion until the screen turned itself off. _What the fuck was going on?_ I jumped to my feet, my hand already out to grab Lenny, who was already set up from earlier today.

I, however, stood up too quickly. The room started to spin and my pulse took off like a jackhammer in my chest, forcing me to sit back down heavily on my bunk. I fished for my oxygen mask and my pulse oximeter. I clipped the tiny device to my finger and breathed in oxygen from my mask, watching the 79% jump to 82% and then jump to 86%. I couldn't get it to go over that, no matter how deeply I forced my breaths to take.

I rubbed my forehead as I let my pulse even itself back out. While cancer was a monster, my pulmonary fibrosis was a thief in the night, working quietly in the background to ruin my life and take whatever semblance of independence I had away from me. I knew that the worse it got, the more energy it was going to take for my shitty lungs to do their shitty job. Which meant that - eventually - I would be forced into a wheelchair, unable to even hold myself up.

 _Not today, though._ I thought as I re-hoisted myself to my feet – slower this time – and put on my shoes. _Bella needs me._

I switched to Lenny and started for the front of the house, finding Mom in the living room watching _The Bachelor._ She looked up at me, her black eyes widening. "Where are you going?" She asked as I put on my hoodie.

"We're out of cranberry juice." I said simply. Dr. Bears and my regular doctor were 'concerned' over my renal health after three whole rounds of of chemo, radiation therapy, two kidney infections, and acute renal failure. I was prescribed a serving of cranberry juice a day and a diuretic.

"I can pick some up tomorrow after work." She volunteered.

"It's okay." I said. "I'm already dressed."

Her eyebrows furrowed, but she didn't push it. _Thank God._ I hurried out of the house at the same time I watched Leia pull up to the curb, shiny and black in the lowlight. I hurried at Edward speeds to the passenger side door and got in.

I looked at Jacob, whose wrist sat limply over the top of the steering wheel, but his eyes were intense. And then turned and looked at Bella, who was laying on her back in the backseat, one of her feet pressed to the ceiling of Jacob's car. Everyone regarded me quietly.

"So is anyone going to tell me what's going on?" I started, my hands wrapped around the handle of Lenny.

"I went to the beach to get drunk and called Jacob to…decompress some issues." She said, her voice wearied. "He was kind enough to come out."

"Why were you getting drunk?" I asked and turned, watching Bella's eyes sharpen with pain and the corners of her mouth turn down.

"She was-," Jacob started.

"No," She sat up, her fingertips on her temples. "Don't lie. I don't want to lie." She sucked in a breath. "My mother is…not well. I've been fielding horrible phone calls all day from her and…" She shrugged. "I went to the beach to get drunk to distract myself and called Jacob because I didn't want to be alone." She looked at her lap.

"Why didn't you call _me_?" I asked a little too intensely, a sharp stab of betrayal hitting me in the chest. " _I'm_ your boyfriend."

Her eyes flicked over to Jacob. "I felt like Jacob would…empathize better with that I was dealing with and I didn't want to…" Her eyes went back down to her lap. "I didn't want to burden you with my problems." She almost whispered, her voice heavy with tears.

I felt my cheeks red and smart like I had been slapped. "Burden me? _Burden me_? Bella, you're my girlfriend-,"

"Bro," Jacob interrupted, his black eyes intense. "Chill."

"I'm not going to to _fucking_ chill!" I shouted. "I deserve to know why my girlfriend went behind my back, got _drunk_ with my _brother_ and I'm called to drive her _home_? That's not _fucking_ cool! That's not _fucking_ -,"

" _Edward_ , stop." Jacob said.

I looked back at Bella, who had balled herself up into the corner of the backseat like she was cowering. From _me_. Her fist was pressed against her face, which was red and splotchy with tears and her eyes were wide with pain, like I had hurt her.

"Bella's had a rough night." Jacob said, his voice barely containing the seething. "She doesn't need the third degree right now."

"Stop fighting." She pleaded. "Stop it. Please."

We all fell silent as we rounded into the parking lot. I switched with Jacob, who was going to take Bella's truck home. Bella didn't move from the backseat. She just stared out the window, her brown eyes flat and her fingernails digging into her arm.

I chewed on my lip, feeling guilty. Other girls had girlfriends they talked about things with. Other girls unloaded their problems on other people all the time. I listened to it in the lunch room and and before class and read it on Facebook.

 _Bella isn't like other girls._

No, she wasn't. She didn't make conventional friends. Bella had a mentally ill mother. Bella sought solace in music and books, instead of broadcasting her life to others. She was quiet and observant.

And a mystery.

"I'm sorry for yelling." I said.

"It's okay." She whispered.

"It's not." I said. "You should be able to-,"

"I don't…" She sucked in a hard breath, fighting tears. "I don't want to talk about it, okay? I just want to forget today happened."

The rest of the ride was silent. I pulled into her driveway. I guessed Charlie was on evening shifts this week, because his cruiser wasn't in its usual spot.

"Do you want help inside?"

"No," She said as she jammed her feet into her boots. "I'm fine."

I got out anyway, dragging Lenny with me, his wheels _ka-klunk_ ing onto the pavement. I had to stop, my hand on the door as the world started to spin again as my pulse raced. _Don't do this._ I begged in my head. _Don't do this, please._

I pulled myself together long enough to walk Bella to the door. She teetered just a little, but was okay otherwise.

"Thanks for driving me home." She said and kissed me on the lips, her eyes still pitched down and flat. I wanted to pull her to me, to hold her. I wanted to banish away the pain that she was feeling. I wanted her to spill it all out for me, so I could wipe the tears away and tell her it was going to be fine. "I'll see you tomorrow."

But, I didn't do that. I watched her disappear behind her front door, frozen and dizzy. And a complete idiot.

* * *

 _April 11, 2017_

I slid into the passenger's seat, glancing at Jacob who was drumming on the bottom of the steering wheel, his eyes fixed forward. "You ready?" He asked when I got settled with Lenny between my legs.

"Yeah." I said and glanced down at Lenny. "I'm ready."

We started back towards La Push. I watched the road fly by as Jake sped, Bella's huddled form in the back of the car haunting me. I wanted to know what happened. I wanted to know what took the life from Bella's eyes, what made her cringe into the corner. _I made her cower like that._ My eyebrows furrowed and I opened my mouth to ask.

"I'm not," Jake said, barely a whisper. "I'm not going to say anything."

I closed my mouth and went to looking back towards the window. The green of the forest was black from the night sky and it looked like there was a storm brewing on the horizon. "Is it really bad?" I whispered after a moment.

He made a noise. "It's pretty bad." He allowed. "But, I'm _not_ going to say anything." He said intensely. _Too_ intensely.

I looked at Jacob when he said that. Even in the dark, bathed in the blue light of his dashboard, I could see something in his eyes. A flash of some sort. I felt my eyebrows furrowed. What was _that_ look?

And then I realized what it was, because it was the same look that Bella gave _me_ – a soft, backlit glow of adoration.

Anger popped in me like fireworks.

"You have _feelings_ for Bella!" I accused, twisting in my seat.

"I do not!" He said, but his eyes and fists tightened.

"Yes, you do!" I insisted, feeling the heat blaze red in my face.

"No!" He sucked in breath. "Okay. I do…have feelings." He said remorsefully, his eyebrows furrowed. "But, I think it's just because she knows everything. I don't have to hide anything from her, like I do other girls."

"What was your plan, then? _Huh_? You were going to go to the beach and _seduce_ her? Steal her away from-," A wave of horror washed over me, my eyes widening with it. "Did anything _happen_ at the beach?" I hissed at him.

"No!" He cried. "You _know_ I would never do that to you."

"You know." I crossed my arms and went to glaring back out the window. "I'm not so sure anymore."

"Whatever." He said, his head shaking. "Believe what you fucking want. Nothing fucking happened at the beach. She talked about how her mom's a fucking psychopath and then we talked about colleges for a hot second. She had some tequila. That's it." He breathed out a sigh. "She came to me because she just wanted a friend." He whispered.

"I don't know why." I scoffed. " _I'm_ her boyfriend." Bella's words bounced around in my head. _I didn't want to burden you with my problems._

"Well, you maybe just stop and think that there's just some things that you wouldn't understand?" He said. "Being a goddamn career casualty and all?"

The fireworks popped again at his words, prickling my skin. "What's _that_ supposed to fucking mean?"

"It means that she knows what it's fucking like to be the one to have to watch the car crash and not be able to do anything about it."

"So you're saying that I wouldn't understand Bella's problems because I'm _sick_?"

"Ding ding ding!" Jacob's eyes flashed. "We have a fucking winner!"

" _What_?" I felt my voice raise in pitch with my disbelief. I shook my head and crossed my arms. "That's fucking stupid. Bella can come to me about _anything_ and I'd help her. She _knows_ that."

He jerked. "Do you know why Bella has a phobia against blood? Hmm?

I shrugged. "No. I don't."

"You're a smart guy – think about it for a second." Jake urged. "Her mom is mentally ill _._ She's quiet and reserved. She's scared of blood." He ticked off with his fingers. "I'm no fucking expert, but it sounds a bit like PTSD to me."

I froze completely solid with shock, my eyes widening on Jacob. "Bella was _abused_?" I hissed.

"Bella's dealt with a lot." Jake shook his head as he pulled into our driveway. "Enough shit to break even the strongest of people. I'm honestly surprised that she's so together despite all of it."

My imagination went wild as I thought of Bella, alone and afraid as her crazy mom _hurt_ her? And she had to deal with that all by herself? Nausea twisted up my guts and I felt like vomiting.

"And guess who she was still thinking of, even when she was breaking down back there?" He looked at me. "You." His jammed a finger at me. "You're all she wanted to talk about besides her mom." His eyes went sad. "Even if I wanted to steal Bella – which I _don't_ by the way – I wouldn't be able to stand a chance next to you. She loves you, bro."

I softened, my shoulders sagging. I loved her too. I just wanted the best for her. I wanted to be there for her.

 _I didn't want to burden you with my problems._

"She knows she can come to me for anything." I whispered and stared back out the window. "She knows that I'm there for her."

"Does she though?" Jacob asked. "You're a good boyfriend, Edboy. You're a _great_ boyfriend. But, like I said the other day, when's the last time you checked in on Bella? When's the last time you've done something for her?"

I went back through our days spent together. I was on such a tightly regulated schedule of school, doctors visits, meds, and resting that the last time we did anything fun together was the concert back in February.

But, Bella was there. She came over everyday. She didn't mind when I fell asleep on her shoulder while watching Netflix. She helped me get caught up in my classes. She didn't mind that we didn't have dates in the traditional sense.

"I'm going inside. Lock up when you're done." Jake said and opened his car door.

I sat frozen in the passenger seat, watching the first fat raindrops hit the windshield, realizing that I had come up short with Bella for the second time in a span of an hour.

* * *

 _April 12, 2017_

"How's your head?" I kissed Bella's forehead, right above her eyes. It was April and while spring showers were definitely a thing in the Olympic Peninsula, it was nice and sunny today. Which was great, because I had a plan and the plan counted on the sun.

She made a noise, a thermos of coffee in her fist and her sunglasses on. Her hair was kind of messy and the t-shirt she wore was wrinkled. She was beautiful anyway, even when hungover. "I feel like I've been hit with a trash truck full of hot garbage juice." She grumbled.

I fished a bottle of aspirin out of my backpack from the front pocket, where I kept a bunch of as-needed type meds. If there was a perk to dating a chronically sick person, it was they were prepared for _anything_.

She sat down on the still-damp park bench that sat outside the front of the school. That's where I would wait for Bella in the mornings and then we would walk to our first period together. She took the aspirin I took out for her and chased it with coffee.

"That sounds about right after a couple six shots of tequila." I mused, my hand tracing her arm all the way down to her hand. She had a bunch of welts on the tops of her arms. They looked like cat scratches. I flinched just slightly at the memory of her curled up in the back seat of the car, her fingertips dug into the flesh of her own arm.

"I'm never doing that again." She pressed her forehead to my arm.

I laughed and pushed her hair back. "Would you be up to doing something with me later?"

"Well, as long as it's not the Tour de France or hiking up Mount Everest," She popped with a little burp. "Or thinking, smelling, or looking at food – then probably."

I giggled again. "Nothing like that." I glanced up at the clear sky. "I was thinking maybe we could go back to that field? The one you showed me?"

She pulled off her sunglasses and winced just slightly at the light. "Yeah, sure. Why?"

I felt my cheeks blush a little. "We haven't had an afternoon together…alone…" My blush deepened. "In awhile."

She blushed too. "No we haven't."

"I think it would be nice." I said, my fingers running over the welts again. "Get your mind off of things."

She looked at me again, her eyebrows furrowing and the deep brown wells of her eyes narrowing just slightly, like she was trying to figure out a puzzle. "Are you sure you're up to hike?"

I sighed internally just slightly. I didn't get much sleep last night. I sat awake, staring at my picture of Bella – my sweet, careful, selfless Bella - wondering how in the world could anyone lay a hand on her in that way. And every time I tried to close my eyes, I just pictured her in the backseat of Leia, trying to make herself as small as possible. Because she was afraid. Of me.

So, I devised a plan. I was going to _show_ her that she didn't have to be like that with me. She could rely on me, lean on me for support and I would _be_ there. I maybe wasn't as physically capable as Jacob and maybe I couldn't empathize with everything she was going through. But, _goddammit_ , I loved her.

I _love_ her.

However, no sleep + shitty lungs = no energy. I felt like death. I probably _looked_ like death. I drank three cups of coffee this morning and knew I was probably going to need a soda or something again later on to keep myself going.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I'm okay."

She looped her arm with mine. "Okay," She breathed. "That sounds really nice, actually."

* * *

 _April 12, 2017_

Nice didn't even begin to describe it.

We both gasped when we got to the little clearing. The grass, which had blend of green and brown from last November, was now a blanket of different flowers, pinks and whites, yellows and lavenders. The pillars of light cut severely through the trees, casting the whole place aglow. This place was special. It was like the cover of one of the church pamphlets – blessed, _holy_.

Bella let go of my hand to walk into the field, the grass swaying around her calves and the sunlight picking up the red in her hair. She was beautiful as she stood among the flowers, like an angel or a fairy in a black skirt and Panic! At the Disco t-shirt.

I moved forward to join her, but had to stop when a dizzy spell started to turn the world like I was caught in a broken carnival ride, my heart hammering hard and way too fast in my chest.

"Are you okay?" She noticed my expression, hyperaware after seven months of dating all the cues that meant something was wrong.

"Yeah," I managed and ticked up the liters per minute on my oxygen. I took a small tank on it's strap so Bella wouldn't have to carry Lenny. "I think I pushed myself a little too hard."

"Well, come sit down." She took the blanket from me and my hand and we slowly made it to the middle of the field, the world still turning in a way it wasn't supposed to.

"These flowers are beautiful." She said as she stretched out of the blanket and took a seat. I sat down next to her and removed Lenny Jr and my ukulele that I had strapped to my back.

"Not as beautiful as you." I said, my heart rate turning back to normal. I glanced at the sky and watched a puffy white cloud pass through the blue.

Her eyes darted around the field and then focused on me with a smile. "I should break down and get drunk more often." Her eyes flashed with humor as she laid down on the blanket and rolled on her stomach.

I looked at her as she propped her head up with her hand and put her feet up, the heels of her boots clicking together. Her lip inserted itself between her teeth and she chewed on it and stared at me.

I had so many things I wanted to say. I wanted to apologize for not being better about last night. I wanted to tell her it was alright, that everything was going to be okay. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to know why she cowered like she did and what I could do to prevent it. I wanted to banish her fears. I wanted to tell her her Mom wasn't allowed to treat her badly anymore, that I would protect her. I wanted to tell her that I loved her.

 _Fuck it._ I thought. _I'll just kiss her._

I kissed her, my hand on her face. She straightened up and kissed me back. It wasn't a sweet kiss. It tasted a little bit like desperation, but it was passionate too. I felt myself fall onto my back and she straddled me.

Her hand slipped under my shirts, grazing a patch of GvHD and my scar. Her kiss became a little bit more fevered as she became more turned on. I responded in kind, my hand slipping up her skirt, under her underwear to graze the skin of her ass.

But, she stopped and disconnected to look into my face. "Is this okay?" She asked.

I sighed. We hadn't _really_ had sex since before my cancer treatments. I either couldn't because of risk of infections and then when that danger passed, I couldn't muster the energy. We would get to third base and I'd have to stop because I'd get winded. Or when I _did_ have energy, we were always in a place where it wasn't possible – like my house or school. It was embarrassing.

But, I didn't want to stop this time.

"Yeah," I said, my smile finding its way over my face. "Just go slowly."

She kissed me again and we both sat up, Bella's hands were up my shirt, running up and down my body. I eagerly ran my hands up her blouse, up her soft, slight waist. I reveled in her heat, her body pressed so close to mine. I reveled in the love between us. _How could anyone hurt this beautiful creature?_ How could do they do that? I just wanted to _protect_ her. I pulled her tighter to me, promising to never let go.

"I won't ever hurt you." I whispered. _I promise._

"Wh-what," She froze up, and disconnected.

I stared into her brown eyes, which churned with emotions. "I won't ever hurt you." I repeated.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Where did _that_ come from?"

My mouth popped open and she put her hand on my chest and pushed away to looked at my face, her eyes narrowing. "What did Jake tell you?"

"Nothing." I shook my head. "I kind of…figured it out myself." I looked down at my lap, which she was sitting on. "With your fear of blood."

Her fingers darted into her hair at my words, right above her ear. Her eyes widened and she paled, scrambling off my lap and putting almost the whole blanket between us. "You're not…you're not going to tell Charlie, are you?" Her voice full of fear.

"I won't do anything unless you want me to." I assured.

The color came back in her face just a bit, but it twisted like she was going to be sick.

"It's okay." I said, my hands going for her, to hold her. But, she shied away from me.

"No, it isn't." She said, her breaths hitching. "It isn't. It's actually pretty _horrifying_. I don't talk about my mother, Edward, unless I have to to medical professionals. I was _drunk_ when I told Jacob." She got to her feet. "There's a reason why I said I wanted to forget yesterday happened."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm just going to go have a panic attack." She jammed a thumb over her shoulder towards the woods, her breaths coming in fast and hard. "I'll be right back."

"Bella," I said and started to get to my feet. "I'm sorry."

"D-don't follow me." She said, her shoulder blades contracting as she took off towards the woods.

"Bella."

"I'll be okay. I promise. I just…have to collect myself. I'll be right back." She said and disappeared past the tree line.

* * *

 _April 12, 2017_

My eyebrows furrowed as the breeze – which was getting chillier now the sun was starting to set – blew through my hair. It had been almost forty-five minutes since Bella disappeared.

I kicked myself for even opening my mouth to begin with. _She said she didn't want to talk about it._ I kept making _stupid_ mistakes. I rubbed my hands on my lap. Bella deserved so much better than me. Someone who she could actually lean on. Someone who didn't have so many fucking problems.

I could hear Jake's groaning voice now. _Cut it with the 'woe is me' crap, Edboy._ But, was it crap when it was the truth?

I looked up at the woods when I heard rustling, but it was just the breeze again. I glanced at my cell phone. Fifty minutes. I got to my feet, picking up Lenny Jr. with me and putting the strap across my body. I went towards where she disappeared into, my feet crushing the pretty flowers.

I slowly make it over the rough terrain, my hands out to grab onto trees for support. "Bella?" I called. "Are you okay out here?"

I hiked around the immediate area, being careful to keep an eye on where I entered from the clearing so I didn't get lost. Trekking up and over roots and logs and piles of dirt was no easy feat for someone who struggled with flat surfaces. The world started going fuzzy around the edges and my heart pounded in my chest.

"Bella?" I called again as I leaned against a tree, trying to catch my breath. I broke out into a cold sweat and I let myself slide to the forest floor, focusing on inhaling and exhaling. In through my nose and out of my mouth.

I didn't have my pulse oximeter, but I bet my sats were low enough to make the little device I clipped to my finger scream at me.

I pulled out my cell phone and tried calling Bella. It rang four times. "It's Bella Swan. Do your thing." Her voice said over her voicemail. _Where are you, Bella?_

I rubbed my forehead as I continued to breathe, but I felt my breaths weren't catching up to my heart rate, which was still racing at a million miles per hour – half-panicked over Bella, half-shitty lungs. I pulled my oxygen tank around to bump the liters up, but I noticed that it had already been bumped up by a liter. I had turned it up earlier and forgot to turn it down.

And the meter was on red. I was almost out of oxygen.

"Fuck." I scrambled to my feet, my world still spinning. I didn't bring another tank. I didn't plan on spending more than a couple of hours out here and my normal 3 liters per minute was good enough on a little tank for three hours. 4 liters per minute, dropped it down to a two hours, but I had been breathing heavy for awhile.

"Bella?" I tried again, scanning around for her. The forest was thick dark green, the sun cutting severe shafts of light where it was able to pierce the canopy. I couldn't even see five feet in front of me. I panicked harder. "Bella, _please_." I begged, my hand on my chest.

I glanced at my oxygen tank again. I was running on fumes. "Fuck." I cursed again and started back towards the clearing.

A pain – not the normal pain of my lungs screaming at me when I overexert them – a different pain shot through my chest. It started low and tore fire through me like I was drowning at the bottom of the ocean floor. I groaned and doubled over with it, dropping my knees to the moist earth. My heart rate was still way too fast.

I pulled out my phone and called Jacob, my fingers trembling on my cell phone. It rang four times. "Hey, you reached Jacob Black. Leave a message and I'll get back at yah!"

"Jacob." I wheezed. "Call me back as soon as you can."

I struggled to my feet and propelled myself forward, breaking back into the circular clearing. The pain weighed on me, forcing me down again. I gritted my teeth as I watched the grass go fuzzy. I clicked Jacob's name again. I listened to his voicemail again. I hung up and called again and again and again. _Dammit, Jacob._ I cursed at him. _Answer your damn phone._

I struggled through the other side of the forest, tripping over roots and branches. _Maybe Bella went to her truck._ I tried calling her again. I reached her voicemail. "Bella," I sucked in a hard breath. "Bella…please…." I wheezed in the phone. "Answer…your…phone."

I broke to the dirt road, glancing at the no trespassing sign on the gate and got to the truck. I managed to get to the driver's side door, open it and then planted myself on running board. I was out of O2. My regulator beeped at me to let me know. I ripped the strap off and the cannula and let it drop to the ground, heaving for air like I was caught in space, like it was being sucked out of me. The pain

With one hand on my phone and the other on my chest. I scrolled up to my I.C.E numbers. Mom was the first one. A pain like a gun blast shot through my chest, causing me to cry out.

I navigated to my keypad and dialed 9-1-1. As a rule, the Blacks avoided ambulances if they could – they weren't covered by insurance. However, I think that I needed a medical professional. _Soon._

"9-1-1. What's your emergency?"

"I can't find my girlfriend." I gasped. "Pain," I started to cough. "Pain in my chest. Out of oxygen."

"What is your location?" The dispatcher asked.

"ZRanch," cough. "road." I managed to wheeze out between coughs, barely finding enough air to power my voice. "Past," cough. "milemarker," inhale. "fourthirtyone."

"We're sending an ambulance." The dispatcher said calmly. "Do you want me to wait on the phone with you?"

"No." I coughed harder, another gun blast in my chest. "Thankyou."

I hung up the phone and coughed. My shitty lungs found something – the source of the coughing – and I started to hack it up, the coughs turning wet sounding. I opened my mouth when it forced whatever it was up and out. I watched blood spray out of my mouth, hitting my shirt and my shoes and pooling in my hand.

My phone rang and I glanced at the name. _Jacob._ I slid to answer it.

"Hey, sorry I missed-, He started.

"Jacob." I cut him off. I coughed and vomited another mouthful of crimson.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice rising in pitch.

 _No_. I opened my mouth to answer, but my pulse was hammering so hard, it drowned out everything – the wind rustling the trees, Jacob's voice screaming at me, my own voice crying out for help. And then suddenly I couldn't hear anything at all. Everything went dark.

* * *

 **So, anyway. That fucking happened. I'm getting REALLY stoked over the next part of the story. And by stoked, I mean sadistically rubbing my hands together over pain I'm going to inflict on you all. Buckle up. It's going to be a bumpy ride.**

 **Oh, one more thing: I am going to my in-laws for a long weekend. We're going to watch the band Toto and sing 'Africa' really loudly. Which means you won't get an update until probably Tuesday of next week. Yep. This is where I'm leaving you. You can scream that you hate me in the reviews.**


	27. Chapter 27

_**I'm dedicating this chapter to the user CurlyGurl05 for writing a novel-length review that drove me to happy tears. Thank you.**_

 ** _And also the band Toto. Thx._**

* * *

 _Jacob_

 _April 12, 2017_

There was a Walmart in PA, which had stuff cheaper - if you were willing to drive - but the local Ace in Forks was good enough for _most_ stuff. Most stuff. I cathartically walked up and down aisles as I looked for a specific nut I needed for my motorcycle.

I wasn't _really_ shopping as I walked laps around the store. I was thinking about Bella. _Surprise, surprise._ Well, and Edward.

I was thinking about the conversation I had with Bella last night. Everything she unloaded on me. She started at the beginning. When she was kid. Her mom would be good with her meds and then sometimes she would just stop – citing the side effects as the reason why – spiral into a bad decision and then be forced back on the meds. Usually threatened either with hospitalization or with removal of Bella or both.

But, it was a specific part that bounced around my skull, that kept me moving around the hardware store, my eyes not focusing on anything in particular – like a fucking zombie in the _Walking Dead._

 _"_ _She said I was a mistake. That I shouldn't ever been born."_ Bella said, tears running down her face. _"She said she was going to abort me, but missed the appointment. And then she picked up whatever was closest to her – which was her hair dryer of all things – and hit me in the head with it."_

I stopped in the wood section, inhaling the scent of pine and dust motes. _Why does the world have to be so fucked up?_ My eyebrows furrowed. _Why do bad things happen to good people?_

I had decided – with my brain and not my heart – that I was perfectly fine with being Bella's friend only. _Ow_. I put my hand on my chest like a heartbroken Romeo. She loved Edward. Even her next breath was about him:

 _"_ _Sometimes, I freak out about it. I don't know - just have a flashback, Vietnam vet-style, I guess."_ She shrugged, her fingers playing with the bottle cap of the tequila bottle. _"But, I think of Edward. His arms around me – my heaven on earth – and I know I'll be okay."_ She smiled, but her eyes were dark and sad and her eyebrows were scrunched.

I could be her best friend, even. Completely platonic. _I could do that._ I picked up a set of bolts, trying to compare the one I swiped off the motorcycle and then replaced it on its shelf. Edward was my _brother_. I couldn't get in-between him and Bella. I don't think I was even capable of doing that.

My lips rolled into a lopsided pout. _I just wished I could catch a fucking break every once in awhile._

I walked out of the store, the bell dinging above my head. It was a nice day. We were in a dry spell and it was a clear day – like anyone was complaining. I regarded an ambulance as it screamed down the 101 going east towards the road that takes you out of Forks. My stomach did a small flip-flop. It always did when I watched emergency vehicles pass.

I compulsively pulled out my cell phone, expecting nothing but ESPN app updates and maybe a text from Mom. But, I had four missed calls from Edward. A weight dropped in my stomach and my heart took off down the runway, approaching supersonic, sound-barrier-breaking speeds. I swiped to call him back. "Hey," I started when I heard his labored breathing. "Sorry I missed-,"

"Jacob." He wheezed and then vomited.

The sound barrier was broken, panic exploding in my head. I took off towards my car as fast as I could go. "Are you alright?"

He garbled out something, punctuated by wet sounding coughs.

"Stay with me, Edward!" I said as I got behind Leia and shoved her into drive, ripping through the parking lot and onto the highway, chasing after the ambulance.

"Help." He breathed. "Help."

"Edward, stay with-,"

The line beeped to signal it was dead.

"Shit." I cursed and moved to my mom's number. I listened to it ring. I lost the ambulance, but I watched Charlie's cruiser pull down a random ranch road, his lights on. I followed it.

"Jake?"

"Mom," I almost shouted at her. _Pull it together, Jacob._ I chastised myself. "Mom, Edward called me. He's in trouble."

"Do you know what's going on?"

"No," I said. "It sounded like he was throwing up and then he passed out." I said as calmly as I could. "He called an ambulance."

"I'll meet you at the hospital." She said quickly and then hung up.

I pulled up to the scene, parked and jumped out my car without bothering to turn it off. I found Bella's truck parked in front of a chained gate, the driver's door open and Edward's mini-tank on the ground next to it. I found the ambulance, the siren off but the lights still flashing. And then I found Edward on a gurney, an Ambu-bag being pumped at his face. I ran up to the EMTs who were loading him into the back of the ambulance.

"I'm his brother." I said, my heart pounding so loud in my ribcage, I almost didn't hear my own voice in my ears. "What's his sats?"

"It's too low. We can't get a read." An EMT said. "He was in vFib. We defibbed him back, but his blood pressure is dropping."

"Can you get chest sounds?" I asked, trying to arc myself around the EMT to get a look at him.

"No." The EMT said. "Do you want to ride in the ambulance?"

"No," I said. "I got my car. Let the doctors know he has IPF and was a cancer patient, okay?"

The EMT's eyes flashed with sadness at me and he placed his hand on my shoulder. "We know, son." He said. "We know Edward."

With that, they were off, blazing back down the dirt road towards the highway. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to collect myself. I had to remain calm. I started listing out my missions. Edward was being taken care of. He was going to the hospital. Mom was going to meet us there.

I found Bella's truck again, another lightning strike of anxiety lighting me up as a thought occurred to me. _Where's Bella?_

I headed towards her truck, jogging on the gravel road. The truck seemed empty, which just deepened my confusion and concern. _Where was Bella?_ It bonged loudly to let me know the door was still open. I bent over to pick up the oxygen tank.

And then I saw the puddle of blood on the ground.

I was suddenly fourteen years old again in the skeezy lasertag room. Everything started to spin, too fast. _Too fast._ I was caught in a hurricane, the wind uprooting everything in its pathway. It screamed in my head and stole the breath in my lungs and forced tears into my eyes. _No._ I begged. _It can't be cancer. Please don't let it be cancer._

"Jacob!"

I turned and saw Charlie. In his arms was an unconscious Bella, a gash on top her forearm that was oozing red blood. I forced myself to calm down and ran up to him. "What happened?"

"I don't know." Charlie said, his normally stoic demeanor panicked. "I found her unconscious in the woods."

I removed Bella from his arms so he didn't have to carry her weight. "We're going to the hospital." I said.

"I'll go ahead." He nodded.

He lit his cruiser up and turned on the siren. I put Bella in the passenger seat of Leia and climbed behind the driver's seat. My hands were shaking so bad I missed the keyhole four times. _Keep it together, Jake_. I coached. _Bella needs you. Edward needs you._

I followed Charlie who police-escorted me through the small town of Forks to the hospital. I searched the parking lot, but I didn't see Mom's Buick yet. I did find the ambulance, the door now closed with Edward safely inside. I pulled into the driveway, ran around my car and lifted Bella out.

She made a noise, her eyes fluttering open. "Edward." She breathed.

"You're okay, Bella." I said as I crossed through the automatic doors, her head on my shoulder and her slight body clapsed against my chest.

"Jake?" Her eyes focused on me, swirling with confusion. "Where's Edward?"

"He collapsed." My voice broke – my resolution spiderwebbing with cracks. "What happened?"

Her arm lifted and she examined the blood, her face going green. "I…I…" Her head slumped and she fell unconscious.

"What's going on?" A nurse ran up to me.

"She was found unconscious in the woods." I said, my voice robotic.

The nurse motioned and suddenly a gurney vaporized in front of me, along with two other teal-clad hospital staff members. I gently laid Bella down.

"We got her." The nurse nodded at me.

I stood in the middle of the waiting room and watched Bella disappear behind the double doors, the hurricane swirling around me - threatening to pull me under, uproot me, and drown me.

 _But, who has me?_

* * *

 _February 2, 2014_

My mother picked up the envelope – which had a logo for People magazine on it – and then sunk down into her chair, her eyes filling with tears.

"What does this mean?" Dad asked, his eyes snapping to me.

I felt my face blaze with heat. "I told Mom he was being bullied at school." I started.

"No, Jacob." Dad whispered, his voice hard as stone. "What does _this_ mean?"

"How should I know?" I glanced at Edward, whose eyes were fluttering with sleep. "I'm not my brother's keeper."

"Jacob-," My Dad's eyes flashed angrily at me and I took an instinctual step back. I was glad the entirety of Edward's bed was between us.

"Stop." My Mom's hand flew up, tears rolling down her face. "This isn't Jacob's fault. This is _our_ fault."

"Sarah," Dad said, his voice full of pain. "This isn't anyone's fault. Edward is sick."

"No, Billy." She got to her feet. "Edward is dying." Her voice cracked as the envelope crumpled in her hands. "Edward is _dying_ and he believes its _his_ fault."

"Sarah," Dad breathed, his eyes filling with tears.

Mom didn't acknowledge Dad, though. She dropped the envelope and pressed her copper-colored hands to Edward's pale face. "I'm so sorry." She said, her voice tortured and pained. "I'm so sorry," She breathed between tears. "That I didn't show you - every moment of everyday - how much I _need_ you. Need you more than the air in my lungs."

* * *

 _April 12, 2017_

I was in full-on meltdown mode.

I tried. I tried _so hard_ to keep it together. I made every argument to myself – keep it together for Edward. For Mom. For Bella. For Charlie, even, who occupied the waiting room seat next to me. But, I couldn't. All my walls – my structurally sound walls – were tumbling down. And I, Humpty Dumpty, was cracked like rotten egg at the bottom.

It was that damn puddle of blood. I was drowning in it. Drowning in red as it tinged my vision and pounded in my skull. I couldn't find the surface. I couldn't see in front of me. I couldn't breathe. It filled me up, threatening to pop me into a puddle of sludge on the floor of the Forks ER waiting room.

 _It's cancer._ I choked with a sob. _He has cancer again. It's in his lungs._

"Jacob," Charlie said, his hand on my shoulder. "It's going to be okay."

I just shook my head, my eyes trained on my hands in front of me, which were shaking so hard they hurt.

"Jacob." A voice pierced through me.

I looked up and found Mom. I got to my feet, but everything was spinning. I felt my I felt Charlie's hand on my shoulder as he guided me back down to my seat.

"He's having a panic attack."

I felt arms wrap around my shoulders. "It's okay, baby." She said. "He'll be okay."

 _No. It's not._ I thought. _No. He won't._ but I couldn't get the words to form. I just gasped for air around the puddle of blood.

"He's going to pass out." Charlie said quietly at my side.

"Jacob." I felt hands on my face and looked into my mother's black eyes. "You _have_ to calm down."

I shook my head. All these years, I thought I had been holding on. I realized in that moment that I wasn't holding onto anything. I was free falling. I just refused to look down to see the bottom, too see when I was going to crash.

"Jacob." She repeated. "You need to calm down, okay?"

"M-m-mom," I managed, tears blurring her into white waiting room. " _Edward_." My voice cracked and my breathing hitched again.

"I know." She said. "I know. We'll get him fixed up, okay. Can you take deep breaths?"

I sucked in a deep breath through my nose and exhaled it out of my mouth. "I'm sorry." I whispered.

"Why are you apologizing?"

Tears broke my voice again, desolation pressing on my chest. "Because I'm not strong enough."

* * *

 _February 3, 2014_

We were in the dining room – kicked out by the staff so they could do something with Edward – not looking each other in the eyes or speaking. We didn't even really eat. The food we bought still wrapped in their plastic containers.

Edward's words pressed on everyone. _Adopted. Defective._ They were rattling around everyone's heads, I could tell. They made Dad sad – the lines in his face deepening, his deep black eyes flattening. They made Mom upset, tears constantly rolling down her face. Her breaths always ragged as she fought to keep herself from completely losing it.

They tied up my stomach into tight knots – a chain, thick as my fist winding around and around my middle. I couldn't even look at food without wanting to throw up.

And we all felt that way because we knew. We knew what we did: we failed Edward.

"I should've rescheduled his appointment sooner." Mom broke the silence. "I should've demanded that he be seen that day. We should've went there instead of the dentist."

"Sarah," Dad breathed, but didn't say anything more. His eyes went to stare out the window.

"Why didn't we see it?" Mom's eyes welled with tears again. "Why were we so blind? Our baby was sick and we didn't even realize it."

"Sarah, things like this happen." Dad said again, his voice hollow.

Dad's phone buzzed – a prepaid crack dealer flip phone that they bought at Walmart when we got our clothes – and we all jumped. There was only one place that had that number -the ICU. Dad snatched up the phone. "Hello?"

Mom and I watched Dad's face as he rose to his feet, still on his phone.

"Yes. Yes. We'll be right there." Dad said and then shut the phone.

"What's going on?" Mom said, her eyes wide and stood up, not even bothering with the untouched food on the table.

"Something happened," Dad said. "With his lungs."

"What?" My mother demanded.

"I don't know. They just said to come to the ICU."

We jogged from the cafeteria to the ICU and they buzzed us into to the hallway. We got to Edward's room, all freezing at his door at the staff members that circled around him like flies on a horse. Dr. Hale – dressed in scrubs now, disconnected to speak with us.

"We've been monitoring the pneumonia that's been developing, but it's caused pleural edema. He crashed when we were trying to clear some of the excess fluid in his lungs."

"What does that mean?" My mother demanded.

"He coded blue and we brought him back."

"He _died_?" I sputtered in disbelief.

"The pneumonia is causing his heart to work too hard. His lungs can't keep up with his body's demands. He's at risk to crash again." Dr. Hale's voice went soft. "We have him on antibiotics and the ventilation is continuing to circulate oxygen for him, but if his condition doesn't improve in the next couple of hours, then his chances for survival are pretty low." She said. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh my God." My mother crumpled and turned, sobbing hard into my Dad's shoulder.

I gulped and looked past the doctor at Edward, who was so pale he bled into the sheets around him. feeling like my mouth had been stuffed with cotton balls. _I'm not ready to say goodbye._

* * *

 _April 12, 2017_

"Bella," Charlie breathed from next to me and stood up.

I looked up from my hands. I had calmed down from my meltdown and Mom separated from one fire to go take care of the inferno that blazed behind the double doors of the ER, her ER-visit-momma-bear-armor on. Instead I succumbed to focusing on my hands, trying not to let the impending tsunami dissolve me again.

Bella stood at the doorway of the ER, her forearm not wrapped up in an ace bandage and her face twisted with confusion. I got up too and followed Charlie.

"Are you okay?" Charlie asked, his hand hovering right over her arm.

"Yeah," She nodded, her eyes flicking to me. "I'm fine. Where's Edward? What's going on? They're not telling me anything."

"Edward collapsed." I said again.

"What _happened_ out there?" Charlie demanded.

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Edward took me to a pretty clearing to hang out and…" Her voice dropped with her eyes. "He started talking about Mom and it freaked me out. I went into the woods to have a panic attack and managed to cut my arm." She sucked in a breath and I could see she still had forest debris in her hair. "I passed out from all the blood. That's all I remember."

 _Bella's okay_. I sucked in a tiny breath of relief. I looked past her into the ER as the automatic doors slowly closed.

"What's wrong with Edward?" She asked again.

"We don't know anything yet." Charlie answered for me. "Why don't you take a seat?"

She turned to me. " _What's_ going on?"

I shook my head, threatening to come undone again. "Blood." I sputtered. "There was blood. He called me. I don't know anything else."

I guess whatever I said alarmed her. I watched her eyes widen in panic and her hands flew to her forehead. "He ticked up the liters per minute on his oxygen tank." She said. "Something was wrong. I shouldn't have left."

The doors flew open again and my mother marched out, her eyes half-crazed. "They're moving him. We need to go." She announced and marched to the chair where she dropped her purse.

"Where are they moving him?" Bella asked.

"To Seattle."

"What? _Why_?" I cried, the tsunami washing over me. _Seattle meant cancer. Edward has cancer._

She shook her head. "I don't know. They intubated him, even though I told them not to and now they're moving him." She turned to me. "Are you okay to drive, Jacob?"

I shook my head in affirmation, even though I didn't completely comprehend the question over the rush of blood in my head.

"I'll drive." Bella said, her voice calm but her eyes panicked. "I don't think Jacob's going to make it."

I nodded again.

"Baby," My mother put her hands on my shoulders. "He's going to be okay. Okay? You _need_ to calm down."

Everyone kept saying that, but I was pretty convinced that everyone was having a hard time believing it this time around.

* * *

 _February 3, 2014_

"Hi, my sweet baby boy." Mom sat on the edge of Edward's bed, her hand clasped with his as his eyes fluttered open and looked around, confusion filling them up.

It was late now, even though you couldn't tell in the windowless ICU room. The visiting hour rule was abandoned now that Edward's chances had been reduced to fifty-fifty. They also didn't want to knock him out again just yet. In case this was actually our last couple of days with him.

It was weird and depressing watching everyone switch from this mechanical 'save him' mentality where things were structured and regulated and militarist to comfort as his chances of survival diminished. The nurses took a moment extra to push his hair from his forehead. They cooed at him more, even though he was dead asleep. They stopped to exchange nice words with us, sadness in their eyes.

"Edward," Dad said, his fingers around his other hand. "My son."

His eyes flicked to me. I was sitting numbly on my chair near his knee, unable to comprehend Edward _dying_. _What's going on?_

But, I didn't get a chance to answer. Mom did it for me. "Baby," She said, her voice cracking. "Your lungs are really sick and they are having a really hard time keeping up with your body." She said gently, like she was telling a bedtime story and not telling someone they were going to pass away. "They have you on medicine and they're trying to make you well, okay?"

His eyes traced around the room, landing on Dad, who was on his other side. "You're going to be okay, buddy." He said.

His eyes flicked to me, a flash in them. _They're lying._

"Rachel and Rebecca are coming." Mom said, a shaky smile on her face. "That'll be fun, right? We haven't seen them in almost a year."

His hand came up and he pretended to write in the air. We scrambled to get him something to write on again, although I had my doubts that he would actually be able to get the pen over paper, since his hand kept thumping back onto his chest.

He did though, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration. He managed to write out _not afraid_ before his hand gave up.

"I know, baby. You're so brave." Mom said gently. "You're my hero."

He shook his head and picked up the pen again. He added two more words.

 _Not afraid to die._

"Edward?" My dad's voice was filled with horror. "What are you saying?"

His eyes flicked to me, full of remorse and apology, but something else – a firmness. He had a decision made. And there was only one at this point. I felt myself choke up as I realized what he wanted. "He wants to _die_." I cried.

"Jacob," Mom gasped in horror.

But, Edward nodded in affirmation, his eyes flicking between all of us and his eyes softening with tears.

We all froze and watched his eyes flutter close as he lapsed back into unconsciousness. I felt like I had been frozen into a block of ice – all my joints turned into stone. I couldn't move. _He was giving up._ Disbelief made me feel hollow – like the tin man. _He couldn't be giving up._

"He…" Mom's voice cracked in horror as she rose to her feet. "He wants…?"

"No," My dad breathed, tears on his face. " _Edward_."

I felt my brows furrow as I thought of the suicide note I found last week. That seemed so long ago now. A new emotion flashed through me, replacing the grief that flood me – white hot anger.

"No." I stood up, my chair scraping over the tile flooring. "He can't give up like that."

"Jacob?" Mom turned.

 _They have to see it. They have to convince him to fight._

But, I was already moving. I ran through the ICU, my sneakers hitting the tile floor. I ran through the lobby, down the stairs – not even bothering with the elevator. I burst into cool, wet Seattle air and ran to the Ronald McDonald house, which was three blocks away from the skyscraper hospital.

He can't give up.

I got into our room, finding the jeans I was wearing that day. I pulled the note from the back pocket and dashed back to the hospital. The slight drizzle didn't even phase me.

By the time I got back to Edward's room, I was a gasping mess. "You…can't…" I handed over the note. "let him…give up."

Mom took it from me and scanned it, her hand moving to cover her mouth as her eyes widened. She gave the note to Dad to read. "Was he planning on _killing_ himself?"

"I don't know." I shook my head. "But, _Mom_ ," I cried, desperation in my voice. "We can't give up him. We _can't_."

Her fingers wrapped around his hand. "We won't." Her eyes turned hard as stones. "We won't ever give up on family."

* * *

 **So, I blessed those rains. Hard. And now I'm back with this fic! Who is crying? I'm crying a little tbh. Anyway, let's get this thing rolling, amirite? REVIEW!**


	28. Chapter 28

_Bella_

 _April 12, 2017_

I sped down the highway behind the wheel of Leia, the speedometer approaching a hundred. The forest blazed by us in a blur and I put miles behind me as fast as I could. But, I wasn't focused on any of that. I was focused on Edward.

I replayed the events of the afternoon in my head.

I went into the woods, blindly running away from the clearing, panic making my heart race. It was the look in his eyes that set me off – this mixture of sadness and letdown. Like, I was a porcelain doll with a cracked head. I _hated_ that look. Especially from him. It made my skin crawl and tied up my stomach into knots.

But, I wasn't sure on my feet in the middle of a thick, dense forest. I tripped and my arm grazed a sharp branch. There was blood. So much blood. The world span and span. And then I blacked out. Only to wake up in the hospital, learning that Edward was in critical condition.

 _You shouldn't have left him._

I _saw_ – now that I ran everything back in my head – I saw that something was wrong. The way his eyes flashed and his hands went to his chest and the way he ticked up his oxygen. This wasn't like the afternoon after our first kiss. I _knew_ better now and I chose to ignore the signs.

A whimper from Jacob brought me out of thoughts and crashed into reality. We passed a sign that said that Seattle was 23 miles away. I breathed in through my nose and out of my mouth. Only a couple of more minutes, and then we would be with Edward.

I glanced at Jacob – whose copper face had gone green around the edges and his eye were distant and wide with panic. He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips – over and over – turning his area red with irritation.

Atlas' back had been broken. Shattered. Everything crushing him into oblivion. And it was all my fault.

"Jake," I said gently, turning my eyes back on the road. "He's going to be okay."

I had to keep telling myself that and Jake that– even if I knew it wasn't entirely true. It was okay, I think, to lie this time around. Jacob didn't need the truth. He needed _support._ I didn't need the truth. I needed the _hope_.

He shook his head, a spastic movement. "No," He said, his voice quiet and scared. "This is exactly what happened the first time he got the lung mets."

Ice shot through my veins. "He just _beat_ -,"

"I feel like I'm trapped in my worst nightmare" He interrupted me and shook his head again. "Reliving everything all over again. Bella," He said and started to rock. "Everything's the same – the blood," We both flinched. "the intubation, the-,"

"Jacob," I said sharply and he froze. "Edward's going to be okay." I said, for myself and for him. "He _has_ to be."

* * *

 _April 12, 2017_

We arrived at the hospital and ran through the building, up the stairs to the ICU. Jake took them almost three at a time, but I was right on his heels. We found his Mom and Dad in the waiting room, huddled together on the chairs. His mom's eyes flicked to the door when we ran in and she rose to her feet.

I ran right into her expecting arms. "Any update?"

She shook her head. "No," She said. "They're running tests right now."

"Is he…" Jacob gulped. "Stable?"

She nodded and moved from me to grip Jacob. "He crashed on the helicopter, but they brought him back."

"He crashed?" I asked, horrified.

Sarah's eyes tightened in pain. "His heart. There's something wrong with it." She said in a strangled voice.

I froze up, ice shooting through my veins again. "His _heart_?"

"That's what they said."

We all sunk down in silence into the padded waiting room chairs, becoming pillars of salt – watching our world burn in front of our eyes and not able to do anything about it. We had to hope that he would be strong enough to make it through this.

I leaned forward in my chair, and looked at my hands – they were scuffed up from when I tripped in the woods. But, where I should feel pain, they were numb and cold. _You shouldn't have left him._ A voice ricocheted in the back of my mind. You're the reason he's here.

"I'm sorry." I felt the words tumble out of my mouth. I felt the tears on my face. "This is my fault."

"Honey," Sarah's hand went to my shoulder. "These things happen."

"No," I shook my head. "I shouldn't have left him. I-," I sucked in a ragged breath. "I could've gotten him help sooner."

I felt a hand slip into mine and I looked up at Jacob, his eyes fixed on me, swirling with emotions. "It's nobody's fault." He said.

Sarah's hand slipped into my other one and she grabbed Billy's hand on her other side. And we sat there, our hands chained together. Edward's defensive line. His primary support. His infantry in the war against his own body.

* * *

 _April 12, 2017_

We were summoned by a nice nurse after what felt like ages in the waiting room. I had watched the sunset turn into the night through the window that ran the wall's perimeter. A couple stars hesitantly poked out of the night sky, defying the light pollution of Seattle.

The ICU was quiet at night. The usual hustle and bustle of staff members going in and out of rooms had ceased as patients went to bed for the evening. The only sounds came from the _sighings_ and _whirlings_ and _whooshings_ of different machinery as they carried out their duties to keep people alive.

I braced myself for what I was going to find in Edward's hospital room, my stomach tied into knots, my mind obviously going to the worst.

I looked at Jacob – who was still pale and green, his eyes wide. He didn't seem in any better shape than I was.

But, he looked the same as when he crashed in November before his cancer treatments – a bunch of tubing sticking out of him connecting him to different machines around the head of his bed. The only difference was that there was a tube in his mouth, held in place with a Velcro strap around his face and his eyes were closed.

The beast that was Dr. McCarty and the beauty that was Dr. Hale were standing at the end of Edward's bed, sympathetic but neutral expressions on their faces. They let us gather around Edward and get settled. I moved automatically around to stand at Edward's head. At this proximity, I could see how pale he was under the wash of the bed's light. I glanced up at a screen above his head that was keeping track of his heart rate and his blood pressure.

"Evening, everyone." Dr. Hale said and opened a folder she was holding.

We didn't respond to her greeting, we just stared at her - frozen blocks of ice waiting to be thawed out.

She sucked in a deep breath as she tacked up an x-ray of Edward's chest. His lungs were splotchy and unreadable by laymen like myself, but I could see his internal surgical scar. My fingers moved to his chest. "Edward's in acute respiratory failure caused by pulmonary edema, which is fluid in the lungs." Dr. Hale said, her voice robotic. "This fluid caused a rupture in the capillaries of his respiratory system and anemia caused him to bleed. We have him on intubation and we are draining the fluid and we have him on a transfusion to replace the blood he's lost." She paused to make sure we were tracking, her eyes darting around. "He's on the upswing, but slowly." She sucked in a breath. "As long as he doesn't crash again."

We all sat there and digested this in silence. Her words echoed around us. _He's on the upswing._ It was a teensy, tiny pinprick of light in the dark. Like, one of the stars that managed to pierce through the light pollution. A tiny flash of hope.

"So," Jacob started, his voice half-strangled. "It's not cancer?"

Both her and Dr. McCarty's faces tightened and something heavy dropped in me.

"We did a CBC since he is anemic and it showed a reoccurrence of myleoblasts." The usually boisterous Dr. McCarty's voice was small and gentle. "That means that he is in a relapse of leukemia. We probably would've seen it at his next appointment."

"But," I snatched his hand, disbelief ringing through me like a gong. "He had the bone marrow transplant? I thought that took the cancer away?"

"When we did the BMT, we remove the T-cells of your marrow to prevent pneumonitis and acute GvHD," Dr. McCarty said. "But, it did increase his chance of relapse, since it's those cells that attack leukemia cells."

"So, my bone marrow…" I sucked in a deep breath, trying to find air. "…failed?"

"Yes," Dr. McCarty's eyes tightened. "I'm so sorry."

 _This couldn't be happening._ I felt like I had been shot out into space and was floating in the dark matter, unable to see or think or grab onto anything. The air blew out of my lungs like it had been sucked out. _You failed him._ The voice I had banished all the months ago came screaming back into my head. _You failed him._

"What," Billy cleared his voice. "What's next then?"

The two doctors exchanged a look.

"We believe its in Edward's best interest to not pursue induction and consolidation therapy." Dr. McCarty said. "His cancer is aggressive and it's a gamble with his organs – especially his lungs - every time we put him through chemo." He let his sentence drop off.

"What about another bone marrow transplant?" I asked, my "I'm still a match."

"I don't want to risk it again with an unrelated donor." He said and looked through his folder. "There's some things we can explore – clinical trials, that sort of thing. We haven't completely run out of options."

"However," Dr. Hale started. "The more that we stress out the lungs, the poorer his quality of life will be. While we are completely for exploring different avenues for curative measures, you might want to also consider switching to palliative care."

"Palliative care?" Sarah choked. " _Hospice_? You want to put my seventeen-year-old son on _hospice_?"

Dr. Hale's beautiful face twisted with sadness. "He's already a miracle, Mrs. Black." She said quietly. "And I've been a doctor long enough to see that being a miracle _twice_ is almost an impossibility."

* * *

 _April 12, 2017_

I gripped the toilet I had found while I blindly stumbled from Edward's room, unable to comprehend my boyfriend – the love of my life – dying. My everything passing away. Me holding his hand as his soul left his body. I vomited again, my stomach churning wildly and my whole body shaking. I couldn't. I couldn't even comprehend him _leaving_ me.

 _You knew this was going to happen._

I choked with sobs. I wasn't in space, floating around. No. I had been sucked through a black hole. I had been taken and shot through the darkness, completely imploding until there was nothing of me left. There couldn't be any of me without Edward. I couldn't exist without him.

"Honey," I felt hands on my back and looked up into two wide brown eyes shining with concern over me. She sat on her knees next to me in this gross hospital bathroom.

"Sarah." I choked and twisted, my arms flying around her shoulders.

In the last months with Edward, I had gotten so close with his mother. She was gentle and fiercely protective and so, so loving. Every time I watched her push Edward's hair off his forehead or playfully pat Jacob's shoulder or even when she would squeeze my shoulders and call me 'baby girl,' this shiny adoration would enter her eyes. And I realized _this_ is what having a mother was like. This was what is was like to be _loved_.

"I can't lose him." I choked against her, my tears staining her blouse. "I can't los

She rocked me on the floor of the hospital. "I can't either, baby." She whispered. "I can't either." She sucked in a ragged breath. "He's my _son_."

An idea occurred to me.

I had pondered, briefly, about Edward's biological parents – these faceless, nameless beings that dumped him off at a fire station. I had assumed that it was a classic story of teenage parents or infidelity or something like that.

I pulled away and looked at Sarah, at her high cheekbones and her copper-colored skin and her black eyes. Yeah, she was Edward's _mom_ , but she wasn't his _mother_. There were two people out there - two people with Edward's DNA. Dr. McCarty didn't want to gamble Edward's organs with another unrelated donor, but what if the donor _wasn't_ unrelated?

And if they went all the way to La Push with a one-day-old newborn, they must've been local. That means, they might still be in Washington somewhere.

Suddenly, the tiny star of hope became a strobe light. And I chased after it with all of my might.

I scrambled to my feet, rubbing my face on the back of my sleeve.

"Bella?" Sarah asked, her eyes bewildered.

"I…I…" I didn't finish my sentence, though. I couldn't. I took off, tearing out of the bathroom and through the ICU doors.

I almost collided and tripped over Jacob, who was sitting on the floor outside of Edward's room, his face red and puffy and his arms wrapped his knees that were pulled up to his chest.

I bent over and snatched his arm and tried to pull him up to his feet. "Jacob," I said hurriedly. "I have an idea that might save Edward."

He rose to his feet and rubbed his face, his brows furrowing in confusion at me. "What is it?"

"What if we find Edward's biological family?" I asked. My heart was beating so loud in my chest; I couldn't even hear my own voice in my ears. "We find them and get them to be donors? Then we can _save_ Edward."

He scowled. "He was anonymously dropped off at the fire station." He said incredulously. "Like, he was wearing a onesie and the same diaper he was wearing from the hospital."

"Okay, but there still has to be some sort of record, right?" I said. "And they couldn't have traveled very far with a brand new newborn, so they might be in this area still."

"Bella," He said. "This sounds crazy. Like, high-on-bath-salts-crazy."

"Maybe a little." I allowed, unwilling to be deterred. "But, Edward needs crazy right now." I said. "Edward _needs_ a hail mary pass, Jake."

"There was a record."

We both jumped to the voice and turned to Billy, who was standing in the doorway of Edward's room. His hair was tied into two braids that hung next to his face of many lines. His eyes were sad as he looked at us both.

"He was dropped off with one of those certificates – the ones the hospital gives you with the baby's footprints on them." He said. "It's in a box in Rache and Becca's room. I don't remember exactly what's _on_ it, but it's a start."

Jacob made a noise and crossed his arms. His lips were pitched to the side, but I could see the tiny sparkle in his eyes – the flicker of hope in the darkness. "We don't even know if Dr. McCarty would agree to another bone marrow transplant."

"Well," I shrugged. "Let's find him and ask."

This had to be it.

We both turned and started for the exit of the ICU hallway. I felt a hand on my arm and whipped around to Billy, whose eyes had gone concerned. He opened his mouth, closed it and then reopened it. "Don't," He said. "Don't tell Sarah that you're looking for Edward's biological family. She's…" He winced. "…protective of Edward."

"We won't." I assured with a nod. "We're going to save him."

He removed his hand and glanced into Edward's room. "I know." He nodded. "I don't know how I know, but I do."

* * *

April 12, 2017

We got to Dr. McCarty's office and found it empty. _Dang it_. I cursed. We had to find him. And quickly. I scowled as I looked around the spacious office that could also double as a merchandise store for the Chicago Bears.

"Maybe he's in the cafeteria." Jake suggested as he looked around the

"We should have the front desk page for him or something." I said, looking around the vacant office one last time.

"Can I help you guys?"

We turned and found Dr. Hale, her hands wrapped around a salad container. Her blond hair was piled on top of her head and pinned with a clip.

"Do you know where Dr. McCarty is?" I asked. "We have a question about Edward."

"Um," She glanced over her shoulder. "He was following me. He might've been sidetracked by a nurse." She turned back to us. "Is everything alright?"

"We have an idea." I said and glanced at Jacob. "We want to see if it would be a possibility to save Edward. You know, get a professional medical opinion on it."

"What is it?" Her eyebrows furrowed delicately as she looked back and forth between us.

"What if we find Edward's biological family and they agree to be a bone marrow donor? Would that be possible?"

I braced myself for bad news, but instead I watched Dr. Hale's lips roll into a lopsided pout and her eyes trace to the ceiling as she thought about it. She about-faced and went to Dr. McCarty's desk, pulling out a chart from the rack that sat on top of it.

She scanned the folder, pulling out a x-ray and clipping it to the light board that sat next to a dart board with a Chicago Bears logo on it. She looked at the x-ray and then down at the folder and then back at the x-ray.

I exchanged a look with Jacob – whose eyes flashed with confusion at me. I shrugged back.

"I think," She finally started. "He would be able to go through the conditioning treatment one more time, with some modifications so it isn't as intense." She turned finally. "His EKG, while not good, is…salvageable. His renal function is within normal ranges. It's his lungs that I would be most worried about. But, if you find a donor that matches his tissue type, then we wouldn't have to worry as hard about pneumonitis."

"That was a lot of jargon that's way above my pay grade." I said quietly.

"Yeah," Jacob agreed. "Can you put it in English?"

"Short answer?" A hesitant smile crossed her lips. "

The strobe light suddenly morphed into a gigantic, blazing search light. _We could save Edward._ I thought, so relieved by her answer, I was almost giddy. _It's possible._

However, it dimmed a little with her next words.

"That's if you find a relative that's a suitable donor." She said and clicked off the light board.

* * *

 _April 12, 2017_

"This is Rachel and Rebecca's room." Jacob said and clicked on the light. "But, since they haven't been home in, like, six years or something it's become the unofficial storage room."

I looked around the small room. There were two twin beds set up next to each other with matching flowery bedspreads. It was a stark contrast to the metal rack of boxes that lined the opposite wall.

Jacob and I drove back to La Push in silence. It was late now – almost eleven by the time we crossed the line into the reservation. But, I was completely awake, riding this weird high. _We are going to save Edward._ I kept chanting in my head, keeping the voice of doubt at bay. _We're going to do it._

Before we left, I said goodbye to Edward. He was being sedated with anesthesia so he wouldn't feel pain or anxiety while on the intubation, so he wasn't awake when I said goodbye. But, I sat there and watched his eyelashes flutter in the breeze of the air condition and watched his chest slowly contract with mechanical breaths and felt the heat in his hand as I held it.

"We're going to save you." I cried and pressed my lips to his forehead. "I promise."

I watched Jacob go to the wall of boxes and pull out one labeled 'Edward.' He set it on the student desk in the corner and popped it open. "The certificate should be in here."

I moved to Jacob's elbow and watched him dig around stuff – awards, papers, school assignments, discharge paperwork, etc. I caught a glint of metal and reached in and pulled out a small trophy with a running figure on top. _1_ _st_ _Place – La Push Cross Country_ was inscribed on the plaque.

"Edward was a _runner_?" I asked in disbelief as I ran my finger over the etching.

Jacob's hands froze. "Yeah," He said, his eyes tightening with pain. "He loved to run."

I tried imagining my Edward – my wonderful, sweet boyfriend who couldn't walk down the hallway of his house minus oxygen without winding himself – as a runner. A _cross country, long distance_ runner. I felt a note of melancholy. _What hasn't cancer stolen from you?_

I put down the trophy and helped sift through the papers. I found old stories, writing assignments from when he was little. I found a drawing of him and his family in crayon. I smiled as I inspected it. I found a package of developed pictures, still wrapped in their Walgreens sleeve. I flipped through the first couple. It looked like a Disneyland trip when Edward and Jacob were ten or eleven. His hair hung in a straight bowl cut and Jacob's was long and tied back into a braid.

"I found it." Jacob said and pulled out a yellowed piece of paper folded into thirds. I watched him unfold it, revealing two little black footprints that were as long as my thumb. _The Unity Hospital_ was printed in fancy script on top.

I watched Jacob's shoulders slump and his eyes go dark as he scanned it the paper.

"What?" I asked and reached for the paper.

"The part where the parents' names go is blacked out."

I yanked the elderly page from his hand. _Birth Certificate._ I read, my eyes tracing down the page. _This certifies that_ the name for the baby was left blank. _Was born in this hospital on_ the word ' _twentieth'_ was handwritten in blue ink on the provided line. _Day of_ and _June_ and _1999_ were also handwritten. There was the time of the birth and his weight – a whole six pounds even.

I scanned down the page, finding the area where the parents' names go. There was only one letter written in for the mother – _E_. And the father's name was sharpied out.

 _No._ Something crumpled inside of me. _This couldn't be it. We had to find them._ I felt tears spring into my eyes. We couldn't be _stopped_ by a simple Sharpie marker.

I vaguely heard Jacob sit heavily on one of the beds over the pounding in my head. I looked back at certificate, holding it up at eye level, searching for anything that could help us. Anything that would would keep the light from fading.

Wait. I turned the page up towards the ceiling lamp. I could see _letters_ under the Sharpie. I turned and jumped on the bed so I could get closer to the light, wobbling on the soft, uneven surface.

"What are you doing?" Jacob asked and looked up at me.

"I can see something under the Sharpie." I said and held up the birth certificate, the light shining through the yellow parchment paper. The name was written in the same blue ink as the rest fillable fields, so there was a slight contrast to the black permanent marker ink.

"C," I started to spell out loud as I strained my eyes to read the paper. "U-L-L-E-N."

" _Cullen_?" Jacob asked. "What kind of stupid name is _that_?"

* * *

 **BRUH so I'M SUPER STOKED for this next part. YOU HAVE NO FREAKING CLUE. Also, I started another fic since this one is (almost) coming to an end. It's call Just Breathe. Check it out folks.**

 **Everyone's very afraid of Edward dying. Which would be tragic. Let's see if some FAMILIAR FACES can help him out, hmmmmmm?**

 **Also, I was today year's old when I found out 'Quileute' was pronounced 'Quill-ee-yoot.' My last two brain cells decided that, for some reason, I should pronounce this word like it was French. So, in my head the 't' became silent and I pronounced it 'Quil-ooh.' Basically, I'm the dumbest bitch alive.**

 **As always, enjoy and review pls**


	29. Chapter 29

_Jacob_

 _April 12, 2017_

"There's one in Spokane." Bella said, her eyes glued to her phone. "Oh, wait. Nevermind. He's seventy-three."

We had spent the last hour googling this name – Carl Cullen – on our phones, looking for anything that would point us in the right direction to find Edward's birth parents.

Bella picked up the birth certificate again, examining it for the hundredth time. She set it back down, groaned and went back to her cell phone. Her face scrunched in impatience.

I still wasn't convinced that this was going to work.

There were so many _what ifs: What if we find them and they're in a complete different state? What if we find them and they don't want to help? What if we find them and they can't help? What if we just can't find them?_

Then Edward would die.

I felt my worst nightmare was happening right in front of my eyes. I've already watched him almost die once, I don't think I had the strength to do it again. I couldn't even imagine it – Edward on hospice, just getting sicker and sicker until he died. I couldn't imagine life without my brother.

I started to fall apart again, my seams unraveled and frayed.

"Jake," Bella said, her hand on my shoulder. "We'll find them."

Bella was completely convinced – in a crazy eat-your-face-off-bath-salts kind of way – that we would save Edward by finding his parents. And I wanted to believe it to. I so desperately wanted to believe it. I wanted to chase this ghost of a hope with all of my might. It's all we had.

Edward's hail mary pass.

I sucked in a ragged breath and pulled myself together and picked up the birth certificate, looking for anything new. I turned on the flashlight of my phone and held it behind the paper, letting the light shine through to the otherside.

 _Cullen, Carl_ was written in a nice, cursive handwriting on the father's section. This Cullen guy was the one that dumped Edward off at the fire station seventeen years ago.

Wait.

I pulled the page to my face. There was another letter. "Bella," I said. "I don't think his name is Carl." I leaned over and showed her. "Does that look like an 'i' to you?"

She squinted at the page and then tapped out 'Carli Cullen' on the search engine. "I'm just getting a lot of Facebook pages for teenaged girls." She scrolled the results.

I continued to examine the page. "I think there is an 's' in there as well."

"Like Carlos?"

"Edward's not _Hispanic_." I snorted.

"Wait." She said, her hand darting to my arm. "Do you think it might Carlisle?"

"I can't tell." I said and tried to decode what was obscured under the Sharpie marker. "Why? Did you find something?"

She showed me a LinkedIn page for a Carlisle Cullen in Seattle. We pressed in together as we scrolled the page. He was doctor who, funnily, enough - in a sick, fucked up sort of way – worked at UW Med in the psychiatry department.

"Why would a doctor give up a baby?" I asked, doubt still shadowing my mind.

"He graduated med school in two-thousand two." Bella said. "That meant that he was in school when Edward was born. That kind of fits the scenario."

 _That makes sense, I guess._ I felt my eyebrows furrow, wanting to believe it. So wanting to believe it.

"Is there a picture?"

Bella nodded, her eyes wide and frantic as she navigated her phone. She pulled up a picture. It was a blond guy and the shadow of doubt grew more opaque and darker. _That's not him._ I thought desolately. It can't be him. I started to panic again, my body rocking. "It's not him, Bella."

"Jake, look."

"It's not him." I shook my head.

"Jake," Bella gripped my arm, her voice a growl. "Look at his eyes."

I looked at Bella's phone, where she had zoomed in on the guys' face – right over his eyes. And I saw pure, opalescent green. The type that glitters in the afternoon sun. The type that swam like they were alive.

I saw Edward's eyes.

* * *

 _February 4, 2014_

It was turning into a race: the antibiotics or the pneumonia.

You couldn't see it – as the race was happening in Edward's body – but you could feel the tension as the doctors came in to look at him. Dr. Hale would listen to his chest and poke at screens around his head and then frown. Or when the nurses and other staff members would come in, their kind words turning to silence as everyone waited with bated breath to see who would get to the finish line.

Around noon, we were kicked out of his room so they could do a chest x-ray and then a couple of hours later, Dr. Hale came in with some bad news.

Edward was losing the race.

"It's putting too much pressure on his other organs." Dr. Hale said. "He's at a high risk of crashing again and I'm afraid we won't be able to bring him back if that happens." She looked at all of us and then at Edward, who had fallen asleep. "It's time to start thinking about saying goodbye." She whispered. "I'm so sorry."

I stared numbly at Edward, who had his eyes fixed up at the ceiling. They were blank, unreadable now. They still weren't putting him to sleep, since these were our last hours with him, but they said that they would put him under when he was ready so he wouldn't feel pain.

I opened my mouth to say it – _'Goodbye, Edward. I love you.'_ But, I couldn't do it. I felt like my brain had been taken over by an alien and it was sucking the life force out of me. I couldn't cry, I couldn't yell at him to get his act together and fight this thing, I couldn't even speak. I just sat and stared, numb like all my limbs had been injected with Novocain.

Dad sat in the chair, still and quiet as stone. He could've been a statue, except for the tear that would fall down his cheek.

Mom was losing it. "Baby," She cried as she sat on the edge of Edward's bed, her hands on the sides of his face. "My baby boy. You're going to make it, okay? You're going to make it through this." Her voice was desperate.

His eyes flicked to me and he started to write in the air. Mom loaded his hand with a pen and then guided it to the table. _I'm sorry._ He wrote, his eyes on Mom and then me and then going to Dad.

"Baby," Mom picked up Edward's hand and kissed his knuckles. She shook her head. "Don't be sorry. My baby boy, my sweet, baby boy."

Dad stood up suddenly and we all looked at him. "We're not giving up." He whispered, his eyes on Edward. "You're not giving up, son."

A tear fell down Edward's cheek.

"Sarah." Dad whispered, his hand reaching out for Edward's hand. "Tell him about Seth."

Mom froze, her face went ghost white.

"Seth?" I asked.

Mom's eyes clamped shut and she took in shaky breath. "Come here, Jacob."

I rose to my feet and we circled around Edward's bed. Mom grabbed my hand with the one she wasn't holding with Edward and Dad grabbed my other one. Edward's eyes looked around us confused, his lips flexing around his tube like he was trying to talk.

"A couple of years after Rachel and Rebecca were born, I got pregnant again with a boy." Mom started, her voice small and trembling. "I was over the moon ecstatic that we were pregnant again. So, so happy." She choked up and she pressed her lips to Edward's hand again. "He was healthy

"Seth died of SIDS." Dad said, his voice a strained whisper. "He was twelve days old."

"We had another _brother_?" I blurted in disbelief and Dad nodded.

"I thought I did something." Mom said. "I thought I did something to kill my baby. It broke my heart. It…" Her eyes dropped. "It messed me up for a long time. I wasn't happy. Actually, I was the opposite of happy. It made me severely depressed and…" Her face twisted, her voice dropping to barely a whisper. "I tried to kill myself."

I made a strangled noise and Edward's eyes flashed with grief and he wrenched his hand from Mom's grip to touch her face.

"Thankfully, I wasn't successful and a couple of years later, I got pregnant with Jacob." She smiled up at me. "But, there was a piece of my heart that I was still missing. I was meant to be a momma to two boys not just one." She stared to sob again. "I prayed to God for a miracle. I asked to let them be twins. I asked that since He took Seth away from me, that He could give me another baby to love. Give me a piece of my heart back." She smiled through the tears at Edward. "And then Billy called me about a baby that was given up at the fire station. And I thought 'this is my miracle baby, this was my answered prayer.' She raked her hand through Edward's hair. "You are the piece of my heart that I was missing."

"You were a gift from God, Edward." Dad breathed. "To us."

"That's why it doesn't matter if you are adopted, my love." Mom said. "It doesn't matter if you don't look like us. You are our _miracle_." She said. "And we aren't going to give up on you, even if you're sick, okay? Because you are _our_ son, Jacob's brother and we love you, so, so much."

Edward hand came up to write again and we got his hand on the table. He wrote a couple of words, his eyes shiny with tears as they flicked back and forth between us.

 _I love you too._

* * *

 _February 4, 2014_

"Mom? Dad?"

We all looked over from Edward – who had gone back to sleep to the door. Rachel appeared at the doorway, her purse slung over her shoulder and her hair cut short, right at her chin. Mom got to her feet and Rachel ran into her arms.

"I'm so sorry I'm so late." Rachel said as she gripped Mom. "What's going on with Edward?"

Mom ran down what was going on while Rachel went to his bedside, her eyes shining with tears as she ran her hand down Edward's face.

"Have you heard anything from Rebecca?" Mom asked. "Do you know if she's coming out?"

"The last I heard was that she was still trying to get flights out." Rachel said and turned. "That was two days ago."

Rebecca and her family had been stationed in Japan these last couple of months and she wasn't sure if she was going to be able to get flights on such short notice.

"Is he…" Rachel turned. "Is he going to be okay?"

"We're not sure yet." Dad said. "He's stable, but it's not looking good."

"Oh, buddy." Rachel said, her fingers in Edward's hair. "I'm sorry."

Suddenly a machine picked up, squealing with a sudden urgent tone. I watched Edward's heart monitor flat line. Panic struck me like lightning. _He was crashing._ I realized. _This was it._

"Edward!" My mom shouted, her hands on his face. "Edward!"

I backed myself up as a bunch of scrub-clad hospital workers ran in, dragging a cart behind them with a defibrillator on top. This couldn't be it. I felt numb, completely iced to the floor as I watched in horror as they lowered the head of Edward's bed and ripped off his hospital gown, revealing his bare chest.

"What did I _do_?" Rachel cried and stepped back too, her hands in the air like she was surrendering.

"Edward!" Mom shouted, tears streaming down her face, Dad pulling her out of the way of the nurses and doctors that worked over him.

 _This couldn't be happening._ I thought, the words echoing in my head as I watched them work in slow motion, my heartbeat loud and wet in my head. _He couldn't be dying._

 _I haven't even had a chance to say goodbye._

* * *

 _April 13, 2017_

We went back to the hospital - after one in the morning when we got there - finding Mom and Dad in the waiting room, trying to sleep upright. It didn't look like they were being very successful.

"He's sleeping." Mom said when she saw us enter, whispering to not disturb the other loved ones camped out, in the waiting room and arms' length away from their sick kids in the PICU.

Bella sat down heavily in one of the chairs and I sat down in-between them. They both settled in on my shoulders, pressing their faces against them as we all tried to find some sleep.

I closed my eyes and tried to string together what I wanted to say to this guy. _Thank you for giving us Edward, now please help us save him._ I rolled my eyes a little. That was an excellent way to get ourselves locked up on the loony bin floor and we were already going to be there.

"Mom," I whispered when I felt Bella's breaths deepen and length and she fell unconscious against me.

"Yes, baby?"

"I'm not ready to say goodbye."

I felt her hand slip into mine. "None of us are."

"I had a dream." I whispered. "Where Edward was giving me my best man's speech at my wedding and he kept telling all these embarrassing stories." Tears prickled my eyes. "I was getting _so mad_ at him and kept telling him to shut the hell up, but he just kept going." I sniffed. "If he makes it, he can tell as many embarrassing stories as he wants."

"He will make it." Mom assured. "And you _know_ he's going to take you up on that bet just so he can tell all of your embarrassing stories."

I chuckled – a strangled noise. "He'll make it just to _spite_ me."

We both laughed quietly. It was humorless and bitter, but we did it anyway.

"You're a good brother, Jake." Mom said. "You're a great brother to him."

"He's a good brother to me." I mumbled back.

"I'm sorry," Mom whispered. "You never had a real childhood. Everything changed when cancer entered the picture."

I shook my head. "I never wanted a childhood." I whispered. "At least, not without Edward."

* * *

 _February 4, 2014_

Things don't happen in slow motion - like in the movies. But, I could see how people would make that error, since when you watch something awful happen, everything comes through in crystal clarity, in Technicolor.

The staff people – including a doctor I didn't recognize – had pulled Edward's hospital gown off of him and pulled the defibrillator paddles off the cart. I watched them pump some goo on the surface of the paddles and place them on Edward's chest.

"Clear!"

Edward's body popped off the table and I watched everyone turn and look at the screen, waiting for the line.

I glanced at Mom, who was being physically restrained by Dad, her hair shaking around her face as she yelled Edward's name at the top of her lungs. I glanced at Rachel, who had gone sickly pale, tears streaming down her face as she took everything in, her eyes wide as discs.

"Clear!"

 _This couldn't be happening._ I thought. I needed my brother. I needed Edward. I needed him to be there for me.

I saw my life flash before my eyes, even though I wasn't the one in danger. I saw graduation, Edward and I throwing our caps in the air. I saw my marriage with him as the best man, standing and telling speeches. I saw Christmases with our families, Mom old and gray and happy with a bunch of grandchildren, some with copper skin and black hair and some with freckles and red hair running around her knees. I saw Edward as some crazy scientist or doctor – changing the world because he was that smart.

I saw us on the beach, cliff-diving even though Edward didn't like heights. Just for the the hell of it.

 _You can't give up._

"Clear!"

His body popped off the table from the paddles and everyone froze and watched the screen.

"Edward!" My mom screamed.

 _You can't give up._

"Clear!" Someone called again.

 _You can't give up._

Everyone froze again, watching the screen.

Nothing.

There were no sounds but my heartbeat whooshing in my ears and the low tone of the heart monitor.

I watched the monitor. I watched it grow closer as I approached his bed, inserting myself between two of the hospital workers. "You can't give up." I cried, tears making my world blurry. I grabbed his hand, my fingers wrapping around his.

"Son," Someone behind me said.

I just shook my head. "It doesn't matter, Edward. It doesn't matter that you don't look like us, okay? You're my brother and I love you and you can't give up because I need you."

A hand was on his neck. "I'm going to call time of death."

"No," I protested, desperate. "Please. Edward. You can't give up." I sobbed. "I _need_ you." I put my forehead on his his, watching my tears fall on his face. "I'm not strong enough without you."

"Time of death-,"

"No," I sobbed harder. "Please. _Edward_."

 _Beep._

* * *

 _April 13, 2017_

We visited Edward before heading to the psychiatry floor to confront the person that may be his father, since they had started weaning him off the propofol early this morning.

"He's going to open his eyes." I told Bella as we walked down the hallway towards his room. "But, that doesn't mean he's conscious. He's not being rude if they just shut on you mid-sentence."

Bella smiled a little. "I don't think Edward is capable of being rude."

We turned the corner and found Edward awake, though. _Fully_ awake. His eyes snapped over to us when he saw us enter – sharpening with pain. He looked back at Mom and Dad, who were already in the room. I froze in the doorway.

"Edward," Bella breathed as she rushed in, her brown hair streaming behind her. "Edward. You're awake."

I unfroze my limbs and moved to his bedside too. He looked at me, his eyes full of questions marks and then looked at Mom. _What's going on?_ His fingers tightened around Bella's and I heard his heart monitor quicken as the question marks turned in fear.

Mom looked at me briefly, her eyes watering. "Baby," She started. It was Black tradition that Edward heard what was going on through her. She was able to soften the blow a little. "You crashed. Do you remember that?"

He nodded.

"It was caused by bleeding in your lungs. Your lungs were working too hard for your heart and you crashed."

He looked at me, his eyes sharpening onto the most important question. _Cancer?_ It was a stab in my heart.

"The bleeding was caused by anemia." My mom continued, tears on her face. "Which was caused by a relapse in leukemia." Her voice turned into a whisper, her fingers pushed his hair off of his forehead. "I'm sorry, my baby boy."

His forehead crumpled and his eyes darted around and a monitor picked up an urgent tone. Everyone became concerned as we listened to the machines

"Baby, you have to calm down."

He shook his head from side-to-side, his eyes panicking.

"Edward," Bella pressed her forehead against his, her hands going to his face. "It's okay. Shh."

He calmed down and looked back at me, his eyes despondent. _What now?_

 _What now?_

All of a sudden, all the walls that had crumbled this last day suddenly found their way back up. _You have to be strong._ I thought. _Strong for Edward._

"He wants to know," I cleared my voice and straightened up. "He wants to know what's going to happen."

He nodded in affirmation and everyone paled.

Mom played with Edward's sheet for a second. "We…" She started. "We haven't discussed all the options yet with the doctors." She rubbed his hand. "But, they don't want to put you through chemo again until you are well enough to go through it." She said. "We're going to discuss it more when you are better, okay?"

Edward's eyes snapped to me. _She's lying._

* * *

 _February 4, 2014_

 _Beep._

We all watched the heart monitor, fear and shock and amazement gluing us into wax figures as we watched the line bounce.

And then it did it again. And again.

 _Edward was alive._

"Blood pressure is stabilizing." Someone hesitantly said, like they were afraid they were going to jinx it.

"We have a pulse." Someone else said.

"Chest sounds are normal."

The doctor pressed his fingers to Edward's neck, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief. "He's alive." He turned to my parents and nodded. "He's okay."

"Oh, thank God." My mom breathed against my Dad.

The hospital staff packed up the cart and started cleaning up the mess they made of Edward's hospital gown and bed.

I pressed my forehead against his again and laced my fingers up with his. "Thanks for not leaving me." I whispered.

* * *

 _February 12, 2014_

Edward started winning the race.

Every morning Dr. Hale would come in, her smile getting wider and wider. She said that pneumonia had been contained and that he was getting better. Which meant that they could start tackling the big stuff – the tumors. She also decided that she was going to switch him from the tube in his mouth to a tube at his throat, which would be better for the long-term.

That was quick procedure, they did it while we were at lunch. In the morning he had the intubation tube and then we got back, there was a device hooked up at his neck, being held by a plastic necklace piece.

"Does this mean he can talk?" I asked as I watched him come out of anesthesia, his eyes slits as he drowsily took everything in.

"No," A respiratory therapist said as she messed with a machine. "It's interfering with his vocal cords, so he can't talk."

"And since his body is no longer fighting an infection," Dr. Hale said and breezed in and started undoing the stethoscope around her neck. "He'll be a bit stronger. More awake and active."

"How's he going to talk?" I asked, scrutinizing him.

Dr. Hale shrugged. "Some patients use a laminated sheet and poke at the letters. Some learn a bit of sign language." She looked down at Edward, raking the hair off of his forehead. "Some use a tablet or a white board." She straightened and smiled. "I think it's about time to start scheduling some tumor resections and get this cancer taken care of."

* * *

 _April 13, 2017_

I stopped in the elevator bank, watching Bella scan the directory for the psychiatry floor. "Bella," I whispered. "What if it's not him?"

"It's going to be him." Bella assured, her finger tracing down the map of the large hospital.

 _How are you so sure?_ I looked down at the birth certificate in my hands. _How are you so sure it's him?_

"Jacob." I looked up to Bella, whose brown eyes were shining on me. "It's _going_ to be him."

I looked at Bella for a long while. There was a ghost of a stir of feelings inside of me for her, overshadowed by the fear and apprehension of possibly losing Edward. I felt a note of disgust for myself too. Getting hung up on Bella like that was so stupid. I was stupid. All of it was so stupid. I was wasting time being mad at Edward for the most trivial things. Why? Because I was jealous.

Stupid.

"I just want him to be okay." I said, my eyebrows scrunching.

"We all do." Bella said. "That's why we're going to fight for him, okay?"

I nodded, my eyes going back to the birth certificate. "Okay. Let's go."

* * *

 **HA! you thought I would let you meet carlisle so easily? Have you MET me?**

 **Anyway, sorry for not updating. I thought I would let the suspense hang in the air a little, you know? But then I started getting panicked PMs and angry anon reviews. So, dang, way to force my hand lol jk i love you guys**

 **Anyway, enjoy and review pls**


	30. Chapter 30

_Bella_

 _April 13, 2017_

My face immediately twisted into a scowl when I read the looping, script-font sign that happily greeted you with the word _Psychiatry_ on a green background. I looked to my left and saw the locked mental unit that you could only enter if you had a badge. It was a comical metaphor for the state of the mental health system in America, where they did a good job of masking the issues with a pleasant, happy, non-threatening façade without actually fixing the issues on the inside.

"Are you okay?" Jacob whispered when he saw me glaring at the sign, heat in my face.

"Yeah," I answered. "I just have a lot of hard feelings against shrinks."

"Maybe I should do the talking then?" He suggested, Edward's birth certificate folded into his hands.

"Probably." I nodded as I followed him into a little waiting room.

We both approached the counter – which had a piece of glass that separated the receptionist from the patient, like her own little bubble of protection from the scary mental patients on the outside – and Jake cleared his throat to get her attention.

"Can I help you?" She was a younger girl, mid-twenties with a nose-stud and a white polo.

"We would like to see Dr. Cullen?" Jake said.

"Do you have an appointment?" The girl shoved the check-in clipboard that was sponsored by Paxil towards us.

"We're not patients." Jacob clarified. "It's a personal visit."

"Oh," She said, her hand going to her desk phone, but then she removed it. "I think Dr. Cullen is on lunch, actually. Can I take a message?"

 _We don't have time for this._ I thought. Edward was _dying_. I banged my fist on the counter. "Can you please just call him and tell him that his son needs him." I said, my eyes narrowing

The girl looked confused. "Dr. Cullen doesn't have children." She shook her head.

"Yes, he does." I snapped. "And his son _needs_ him. It's an _emergency_." I watched her fingers twitch towards the under part of her desk, where there was a button that called an orderly so that they could come and forcibly remove upset patients. "And don't you dare press that button." I felt the heat in my face. "We're not _fucking_ crazy."

The girl, now thoroughly bullied, picked up the phone and dialed for Dr. Cullen, her voice as incredulous as her eyes are she looked at us both. She hung up. "I'll buzz you in. His office is the last door on the left."

The locks of the doors tumblers clicked open. We followed her instructions, passing by other psychiatrist's offices. I read the names that were emblazoned on the plaques hanging on the doors.

"What if it's not him?" Jacob whispered as we walked down the quiet hallway.

"It's him." I said as I stopped in front of the door. _It has to be him._

 _Carlisle Cullen, M.D._

I sucked a deep breath in and looked at Jacob, who was doing the same. _For Edward._ I thought. _Please let him be a match for Edward._

We opened the door to a basic shrink's office: two black leather loveseats facing each other with a small IKEA coffee table in the middle with a tissue box on top. In the back of the room was a desk with two patient chairs sitting in front of it.

Sitting behind the desk was the man from the picture. Although, I guessed the picture was a little old, as this man had some gray in his sand-blond hair. He dropped the fork into his salad bowl when he saw us, and rose to his feet. "Greetings." He said, mid-chew as he watched us both approach his desk. "Hailey said that you had an urgent matter for me?"

Jacob unfolded the birth certificate and handed it over. "Did you happen to have a son seventeen years ago?" He blurted, his black eyes wide on the doctor.

The man froze, the color draining from his face. _Yes._ I cheered in my head. _It's him._ He pulled himself together in the next sentence and reached for the birth certificate. "W-who is asking?"

"We are." I started, eager to get on with it. We were the same hospital for chrissakes. We could go down and have him tested _right now._ "He's really sick. He needs bone marrow from a related donor and if he doesn't-,"

"I'm sorry." The doctor interrupted in an impolite tone, handing back the certificate. "I can't help you."

I froze in shock. _He's not even going to hear us out?_

" _What_?" Jacob squeaked, his large frame trembling. "Why not?"

"I'm sorry." He shrugged. "I did father a child seventeen years ago. But, the mother aborted it before it was born. You have the wrong person, I'm afraid."

"But-," Jake started.

"I'm sorry." He apologized politely again, looking at the both of us. "I'm afraid I have my one o'clock coming soon, so I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

I froze and looked at the man. _Really_ looked at the man standing in front of me. He didn't have Edward's red hair. But, he had Edward's nose and his opalescent green eyes. I could see the lie in them. And the fear. "No," I hissed. "You had a child. You had a child and dropped him off at the fire station in La Push like a fucking Amazon package." I looked around, my eyes zeroing in on his diploma that was framed behind him. _Awarded 2002._ "You got rid of him because you were in medical school and a child would've interfered with your career plans." I spat acid at the stranger in front of me, moving forward, the chair that blocked my path tipping over when I ran into it. "Because he was an _inconvenience_."

"Bella," Jacob said and I felt a hand grip the top of my arm. "Maybe it's not him."

I shook my head. "It's _him_."

The doctor regarded me for a hard moment and stared him down. _Try and lie again, bitch._ I screamed at him in my head. _Try._ He sucked in a long breath. We were all silent as we sized each other up. The only sound was my heart pounding in my head as my anger against this damn shrink. I would've spat in his face and stormed out, I was so angry. But, knowing he could help Edward kept me glued to the floor.

"No," Dr. Cullen finally whispered, his eyes dropping to his desk and his voice full of sadness. "I loved him."

"Then _why_?" Jacob sputtered, his hand dropping off my arm. "Why give him up?"

"Take a seat." The doctor motioned the chairs and then picked up his phone. "Hey, Hailey? Can you reschedule my one o'clock? Thanks."

We took a seat and so did Dr. Cullen. He pushed his half-eaten lunch to the side. "What's his name?"

"Edward." Jacob whispered. "Edward Anthony Black. He's named after our grandfather on my mom's side."

"Edward." The doctor repeated, looking at us. "So he was adopted?"

 _We're wasting time_. I thought. And Edward didn't have time to waste. "Dr. Cullen-,"

He held up his hand and then sighed. "I didn't give up Edward because I wanted to. I had to give him up because I _had_ to." He said. "His mother…" Dr. Cullen flinched, his eyes flashing with pain. Edward made the exact same expression. "…was not well."

My eyes narrowed at the doctor. I knew shrink-speak. Language laced with pleasant, non-threatening words like 'not well' and 'managing' and 'feeling down' when they really meant was 'batshit crazy' and 'barely hanging on' and 'suicidal.' I bit my tongue to keep myself from saying something rude.

"What do you mean?" Jacob asked, his eyes wide on the doctor.

"Part of my degree included a case study. I decided to do mine on a man that thought he was a prophet of God sent to commit holy arson on mosques. He was assigned to Brookview High-Sec Mental Facility in Spokane." The doctor spread his hands over his desk. "I would meet with him once a week and we would visit for an hour and I would write my notes for my assignment and then leave.

"But, then one day, during my visits, I met Esme." His eyes went soft and distant. "She was beautiful, soft, gentle." He sucked in a deep breath. "I was taken with her. Absolutely head-over-heels in love with her. And she loved me." His eyebrows furrowed. "But, we couldn't have a relationship. It wasn't possible."

"Why not?" Jacob's eyebrows furrowed. "Was she married already or something?"

Dr. Cullen sighed. "We couldn't have a relationship because she was a patient."

We both froze up. I felt my mouth clamp shut and Jacob's jaw dropped. The doctor looked at us both. "She wasn't a murderer or anything." He said, his eyebrows furrowing. "She was severely abused in her last marriage and ended up giving birth to a stillborn child. The grief spiraled her down into a psychotic depression. She tried to commit suicide," He winced. "About three or four times before she was sent to Brookview.

"But, she couldn't be a mother either. She was…fragile." Dr. Cullen's eyes dropped. "The pregnancy came as a shock to the both of us. She was over the moon she was pregnant again. But, I was afraid." He whispered. " _So_ afraid. My parents were paying for my school and my father was a pastor. If I came home with illegitimate children with no mother…" He sucked in a breath. "I paid a less-than-morally-sound doctor to forge that the children were both stillborns and then I took them and dropped them off at fire stations." He started to tear up. "The grief ruined Esme. I tried to console her, but nothing would work. She ended up swiping some cleaner from a janitor's cart and…" His sentence dropped off, his voice heavy with tears.

We both sat in shock for a moment, letting Dr. Cullen's words sink into us, digesting this horror show that seemed to be Edward's existence.

But, I recovered. _We found him!_ Echoed around my mind like it was shouted down the Grand Canyon. _We can save Edward!_

"This is great, then." I said, smiling. _There was a light._ "You can help Edward and make amends. I bet he would love to meet you and-,"

"I…" The agony in Dr. Cullen's eyes sharpened. "I still can't give Edward bone marrow." He whispered. "I'm so sorry."

I jumped to my feet, heat blazing in my face and something cracking inside of me, splintering loudly like a rock going through glass. " _Why not_?" I almost shrieked. "He's six floors under you, laying in a bed _dying_ from cancer and you can't even-,"

Dr. Cullen reached into his shirt during my tirade and pulled out a set of dog tags. I fell quiet as I watched him take off them off and place them on the table. He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a poker chip. He handed both items to me. "This is why I can't give Edward bone marrow."

I sat back down and inspected both items. The poker chip wasn't a poker chip - it was a Narcotics Anonymous sobriety chip with _15 Years_ emblazoned onto the center. The dog tag was a medical alert necklace and had Dr. Cullen's information on it. "You're HIV positive." I whispered as I read inscription.

"I assume he wouldn't want HIV alongside whatever cancer he has." The doctor smiled dryly, but it faded quickly, his eyebrows furrowing. "I've come to terms with my condition as a punishment for my bad decisions, but if I could get in a time machine to see that my son would need something from me to live, I would've never picked up the needle to begin with." He shook his head. "I'm a fool…and a coward. I'm so sorry."

I heard the splintering again in my head. It was loud and sharp and I realized it was my heart breaking. This was it. This was Edward's chance. But even his own flesh and blood couldn't save him. I felt like I was being sucked into a black hole – everything good and wonderful imploding right in front of my eyes.

"Wait," Jacob said. "You said 'children.' As in…multiples?"

"Edward had a twin sister." Dr. Cullen nodded and sucked in a breath.

"Edward's a twin?" Jacob's jaw dropped, his eyes widening.

"She actually found me about a year ago." He opened his desk. "Came in - just like you guys - and gave me a piece of her mind and then stormed out." His eyebrows furrowed and he pulled out a business card and handed it to us. "She left that with the front desk."

I grabbed it. It had a picture of a crystal ball on it. _Ms. Luna's Spiritual Psychic and Advisor._ It had an address for in Lacey. I flipped it over. It had an appointment line and a second line - _Your Spiritual Advisor is…_

Written on the line, in purple, sparkly gel pen was the name _Alice._

* * *

 _April 13, 2017_

We stopped at Edward's room before heading out again. Finding him awake and Billy sitting next to his side, his chin tipped up at the television but his eyes blank.

"Where's Mom?"

"She went out." Dad said. "Getting clothes and toiletries."

I moved to Edward's side and pushed my fingers into his hair. He looked at me, his eyes going to soft and misty. "Hi, Edward." I whispered.

 _You failed him._

The voice, the voice I banished so long ago crashed loud in my head, vibrating around my skull. It made my flinch, it was so loud.

"Edward requested to be taken off intubation." Billy said quietly.

I felt by eyebrows furrow in concern. "Are you…" I started. "…strong enough for that?"

He shook his head and laced his fingers up with mine, his eyes going misty. I understood what he wanted – he was coming off of it, so he could spend his last days being able to speak with us. To tell us goodbye.

 _You failed him._

"Edward," I cried, panic choking up as the voice reverberating again, making my teeth rattle. "We have a solution." I nodded and pressed my lips to his forehead. "I can't tell you what it is yet, but you're going to make it, okay?"

He lifted my hand to his face and pressed the palm to his cheek. His head shook and he slid my hand down to his chest, to rest right over his beating heart. His way of telling me he loved me.

* * *

 _April 13, 2017_

"Lacey?" Jacob asked as we drove as quick as we could, the business card pinched between his fingers. "What's in Lacey?"

 _Edward's last chance._ I shook my head. "I don't know."

We followed my phone's GPS as it led us to Ms. Luna's Spiritual Psychic and Advisor, praying that Edward's sister was there so we could ask her to save her brother.

The GPS led us to a weird part of town and we watched as the buildings turn into tattoo parlors and bars and fast food joints. We watched a group of young men dressed in military fatigues walk down the street, their hands wrapped around food bags, flicking French fries at each other.

"We must be near a military base." Jacob said.

I pulled into a strip mall and the GPS dinged that we had arrived at our destination and I looked up to a tiny storefront with a neon sign blazing _PALM READING_ in the window. I sucked in a breath, feeling doubt for the first time that day over my plan. _Is this it?_

We both got out of the car and walked into the small shop together, the door dinging above us.

We were immediately greeted by a cat – a fluffy calico with a red collar, who jumped on the front glass counter that housed different crystals and rocks and incense sticks. The whole place reeked of patchouli and was covered in middle-eastern tapestries. I looked around, thinking briefly how my mother would like a place like this.

"Be right there!" A voice chirped from the back.

The cat meowed at us, pacing back and forth on the counter. I glanced at the price chart that hung on the wall.

Suddenly, the shell curtain that hung in front of the door that led behind the counter parted and a small, wispy girl floated in. She was chopped up, short black hair and wore a lot of makeup - like _a lot_ of makeup – and a nose ring looped in the side of her nostril. "Welcome to Ms. Luna's." She greeted, her hand running down the cat's back. "Do you have an appointment for a reading?"

She had Edward's eyes - his emerald, jewel eyes.

"Are you Alice?" I blurted.

"I sure am." She smiled.

"We need-,"

"-a reading." Jacob interrupted, his eyes flashing down at me.

"Do you guys want a couples' reading or individual ones?" She glanced

"We're not a couple." We both blurted at the same time. I felt the heat in my face and watched Jacob's eyes bug out of his head.

"Alright," She held up her hands. "I'm an advisor, not a mind reader." She giggled – a high sound like church bells. "Come follow me." She motioned and disappeared behind the sea shell curtain.

"What are you doing?" I hissed at Jacob under my breath. "We don't have time to fool around like this."

"Bella," Jacob said as he moved to follow Alice. "If we just show up demanding that she give up bone marrow, it's going to make us look like psychopaths. It'll take fifteen minutes and we'll be able to sit her down and explain what's happening."

"Saving Edward's life isn't _psychopathic_."

"Maybe not to you." He argued. "But, what's she going to think? ' _Hey, you have a twin brother that needs bone marrow from you._ '" He said and rolled his eyes. "She's not a doctor like Dr. Cullen. She won't get what that means."

I resigned with a short grumble as we were led to a small room in the back that had shelves lined with random stuff – rocks, books, odd knickknacks and debris. In the middle of a room there was a small table with a lit candle in the middle.

"So," She said. "Palm readers are quacks and don't let anyone tell you otherwise." She said as she busied herself at a back counter, glancing over her shoulder. "Take a seat." She motioned to the table.

We did as we were told.

"I use an ancient Greek method of divination called scapulimancy – the same method Delphi was recorded using when she would prophecy to Apollo. It's a simple form of fortune reading. But, it's accuracy is unparalleled." She came to the table with a large metal bowl filled with a bunch of random stuff. I watched her spread out a cloth. "Who wants to go first?"

"I guess I will." Jacob said when I didn't volunteer.

 _We're wasting time._ I scowled, but didn't say anything. Jacob was correct. Coming in guns blazing would make us sound insane, but at the same time, we don't need to go through all of _this_.

She held up the bones she was going to use read Jacob's fortune. "Is there are particular question you're looking towards the future for?"

"Um," Jacob started. "My brother's really sick. He has cancer." Jake said quietly. "I guess…that?"

She nodded and put the bones in the bowl. She waved her hands over them and I sighed a little internally and rolled my eyes. _Yeah._ I thought. _My mother would definitely like this place._ Alice put some phosphorous and some oil out a little bottle into the bowl. She chanted something in Greek, lit a match and dropped it into the bowl.

A pillar of green fire erupted from the bowl, obscuring Alice's face for a second. It flamed blue and then red. She picked up the bowl, held it over her head, said another chant and then overturned the bowl onto the cloth, the bones and ash flying everywhere.

She sat down and started to study them. "Your brother is very sick." She ran her fingers over one of the bones. "He has been for a long time."

Jacob nodded, completely enthralled by this show.

"He's at a crossroads." She said, her eyebrows furrowing. "A decision can tip it either way."

I seized the opportunity. "Alice," I said. "That decision involves you." _Please make the right one._

Her eyes flicked to me and her brows furrowed. "What?"

"We're not here for a reading, Alice." I said. "We're here for _you_. Edward - Jacob's brother who is sick - is your biological twin. You guys were separated at birth by your father, Carlisle Cullen."

She blinked, her eyes flashing. "What?" She repeated.

 _We don't have time for this._ I made a noise. "Alice," I said slowly. "Were you dropped off at a fire station when you were a baby?"

Her slender fingers darted to her arm and I watched her finger a circular shaped burn. I gulped when I realized it was the same circumference of a cigarette end. "Yes." She whispered as she looked between us. "In Westport."

"So was Edward." I said. "In La Push."

Her confusion deepened. "I don't understand why you're here now, though?"

"Edward has a cancer." Jacob said. "That can be treated if one of his biological family members gives up some bone marrow. We came here to see if you would do that to save Edward? It's a very quick procedure – almost like a blood draw – and you don't even have to meet him if you don't want to."

"And you're his brother?" She asked Jacob, her eyes hard on him. "And you have a mother and father?"

He nodded, his eyebrows furrowing.

"And he was adopted when he was a baby?"

He nodded again.

Her face flushed red and twisted into a scowl. "So, let me get this straight," She pressed her fingers to her temples. "My biological twin brother – who I didn't even know existed until right now – needs bone marrow from me? You know how crazy this sounds, right?"

"We know." I said. "And we wouldn't even be asking if it wasn't our last shot. But, Edward's _dying_ ," I said, feeling tears in my eyes. "And he needs this last chance."

She froze for a split second and then started to tremble, her face flushing red. "I've spent my _whole life_ in the system. I wasn't named by a mother or a father. I was named by the social worker that processed my paperwork. I bounced from foster family to foster family, school to school," Her fingers traced over more scars. "And I would dream of a day when my family – my _real_ family – would come and find me." She stood up. "And now when they do its just because they _need_ something from me? You know how absolutely _fucked up_ that is?"

"Alice," Jacob said. "Edward was the _same_ way. My dad is the chief of the fire station where Edward was dropped off at. If we had _known_ -,"

"He never wondered if he had siblings?" She asked, her green eyes flashing. "Because I sure did. I guess he wouldn't, though, right? _He_ was adopted. _He_ had a home."

"Alice," I said as gently as I possibly could, trying to keep the anger that burned low and hot inside my belly at bay. How could she take this situation and make it about herself? How could she not see that she was our absolute last chance at saving Edward? People signed up to be donors all the time - for _complete_ strangers. "I'm _so sorry_ that you had a messed up childhood. I get it, I _truly_ do. But, this Edward's last chance at life." I sucked in a breath. "This is your _brother_ , Alice."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry," She said, her voice ice. "I don't have a brother. I never knew my family." She said. "I was an orphan."

A phone rang. I watched Jacob pull his out and glance at the caller ID. He got to his feet and answered it. "Hello?"

"We are begging here." I said, my hands balling into fists. "Please. Edward isn't just a brother or a son. He's my _boyfriend_ , the love-,"

"I think it's time for you to leave." She interrupted.

"Hey, babe!" A man called and we both turned to see a tall, blond guy enter. He was wearing a VA Hospital t-shirt and he was an amputee - left arm cut off right at the elbow. He had a Chipotle bag in his other hand. "I got you pinto beans since they didn't have black. I hope that's okay-," He froze. "Oh, sorry. I didn't know you had a client."

"It's okay, Jazz." Alice said, glaring daggers at me. "They're just leaving."

I got to my feet too, my fist coming down on the table. "Put yourself into my shoes." I said and motioned to her guy that entered. "If he were dying and the only person able to save him refused to help, what would you do? How would you feel? It _is_ fucked up that we're coming to you now, when we need something. But, you know what's more fucked up? That you won't even hear us out."

"Bella," Jacob said, his voice panicked. "We have to go back to UW Med. _Right now_."

I froze, ice shooting in my veins. I turned around to Jacob's pale face. "Why? Did something happen to Edward?"

"No," He whispered, his face horrified. "It's my mom. She was in a car accident."

* * *

 **Welp. Review, I guess? *ducks behind wall***


	31. Chapter 31

_Jacob_

 _March 3, 2014_

"I want to start weaning Edward off of the ventilator." Dr. Hale said as she sat next to Edward's bed in my usual chair, her legs crossed in her pencil skirt and Edward's chart – which was starting to look like a thick textbook than a folder – open on her lap.

In the last three weeks, Edward had a surgery to remove the bigger tumor. After he had kind of recovered from that, they started radiation therapy on the other tumor – this process they called 'Cyberknife,' which disappointingly, didn't use knives at all but this gigantic SkyNet looking machine that would float around Edward's chest shooting lasers at him. Or something.

"The longer he's on it, the harder it's going to be to get him off of it." Dr. Hale said. "If we start slowly, I feel we can get him off of it completely in the next two to three weeks – pending no setbacks."

I sat on the edge of Edward's bed as I listened to the doctor, Edward's greasy head on my shoulder as he snoozed, his trache propping up his chin.

Rachel and Rebecca had come and left – Rachel because she had to get back to work and Rebecca because dealing with a toddler in a hospital was a major pain in the ass. Now it was just us four again, with occasional visits from family friends like Charlie Swan and Harry and Sue Clearwater.

Otherwise, we had a routine.

In the morning, we would get to Edward's room, which wasn't on the ICU anymore. He had been moved to this kid cancer section of the hospital, where the hallways were painted in bright colors and volunteers dressed as movie characters would roam from room to room, attempting to distract the sick kids from the fact that they was sick.

Edward would usually cry because he could smell breakfast, but couldn't _eat_ breakfast because of the tube jammed in his throat. At which, he would complain on his white board we got for him to communicate to us about how everything sucked ass and that he hated being on the trache. He and mom would argue back and forth as Dad and I would watch television. Then he would be collected for radiation therapy, napped in the afternoon and the process of him crying over not being able to eat regular food would start all over in the evening time. Sometimes he cried about pain. Or because he was bored.

I think mostly, though, they were tears of frustration because everything he did tired him out. Everything took a ton of concentration and effort. Even just moving checkers around on his bedside table or holding a conversation on his whiteboard. It sucked to have lungs that suck.

A low tone emanated from Edward's ventilator and I watched his eyes open because of it. Without waiting for my parents or Dr. Hale, I popped the tube back into place on his neck and the squealing ceased. He always disconnected the air supply when he slept on it.

Even though everything tired him out, he was getting stronger, little by little. We were both warned that Edward wasn't going to be the same leaving the hospital as when he entered. He was going to need a lot of help, maybe even have to wear oxygen like Mr. Townsend who came to bug Mom at BIA sometimes, dragging this old oxygen cart behind him.

But, he was here. He was _alive._ And that's all that mattered.

"Dude," I said as I watched his eyes focus on me. "You just missed it. Dr. Hale says that she's going to start taking you off the trache."

His hands automatically reached for his white board and he started to write with the attached dry erase marker. _Will I be able to talk?_ His eyes shone and glittered with hope.

Dr. Hale nodded. "Tentatively." She warned. Dr. Hale was good at not getting hopes up, unlike Dr. McCarty, who came in and got everyone pumped like we were about to go kill it on the football field. "Dr. McCarty wants to start chemo as soon as possible. But, if you're not strong enough to do both, then we will leave you on it until induction therapy is done."

His smiled disappeared and he recoiled a little.

"It won't be that bad." I said and patted his leg.

He erased the bored and wrote on it. _Then you go through it._ He scowled at me.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Stop being a baby."

He elbowed me and I elbowed him back – gently, since he was fragile – and he mouthed 'asshole' at me and pushed. I grabbed his wrist and tickled his neck. His face scrunched and his shoulders popped as he laughed – even though he didn't make a sound. Mom gave a warning _"Boys, stop fighting."_

"Edward," Dr. Hale said. "Now that you are awake. How has your pain been?"

He wrote on his board. _5-ish._

She wrote that down in his chart. "Anything new?"

 _My butt hurts_. He pouted and squirmed. The ventilator and his surgical incision kept him pretty much sitting at a ninety-degree angle all the time and I knew from being his roommate my whole life that Edward was a belly-sleeper.

"Well," Dr. Hale rose, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Hopefully, starting tomorrow, you will be able to turn on your side."

* * *

 _March 4, 2014_

After Dr. Hale left, the nurses and a respiratory therapist named Tanya, this fairy-blonde lady with _Star Wars_ t-shirt under her lab coat spent the day doing a 'wean screen' on Edward. Which, I guess meant turning down the air and forcing his lungs to finally do their job, sort of. They used those results to determine if he was good to be disconnected completely.

This tired Edward out, I could tell, because he became quiet and resigned. But, he was determined too, to get off the tube, since his eyebrows were pinched in concentration and his green eyes became hard as stones.

Tanya bounced in the next morning after Edward's routine of crying over the breakfast he couldn't have, all big smiles and white-blonde curls. Which quickly shifted when she saw Edward's red, bloodshot eyes and the snot trailing down from his nostrils.

"Why are we crying?" Tanya asked, concern clouding her face.

"He smells the French toast." Mom answered for him, her fingers laced with Edward's.

"Aw, honey." She said as she snapped on gloves. "We'll get you there." I watched her open a little package and set it on Edward's bedside table.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"We are going to disconnect Edward from the trache for fifteen minutes and see how it goes." She said as she affixed an oxygen mask over Edward's face, his hair bunching under the elastic band.

She pulled the chair that Dr. Hale was just in the day before close to his bedside. "Okay, your lungs haven't had to 'think' about breathing themselves for a bit, so you're going to have to remind yourself to take big breaths when I say, okay?"

Edward nodded, his eyes shining as we watched the respiratory therapist unhook the tube, a _whooshing_ sound coming from the it as it pushed out air. I got close to Edward's head opposite side of where the therapist was to look into the stoma at his neck. "You can see inside." I said as I tried to peep into it. " _Funky_." Of course, he scowled and tried to push me away.

"Don't talk right away." She said as she snapped a cap over the opening. "I just want to you to breathe, okay? We're going to keep those sats above ninety percent."

She sat down and I watched Edward's mouth open as he started to breath on his own. "Deep breath." She said every couple of minutes, her eyes glued to the monitor that sat above his head.

"Are you in pain, baby?" Mom watched his cheeks rise with color as he pushed himself. It look like it was taking a lot of work, his inhales and exhales sounding more like gasps – like he had just gone running.

"No." He creaked, his eyes widening at this first words since late January. His fingers flew to his throat in surprise and everyone rose to their feet and approached the bed.

"Edward," I started to giggle. "You sound like a chain smoker."

"Deep breath, Edward." The therapist said again, her hand sliding under his to keep the pulse oximeter that was permanently clipped at his finger level.

He sucked in a deep breath. "CanI," He whispered and sucked in another breath. "talknow?"

The therapist smiled at him. "Yes," She said. "You're doing great. Just remember to breathe."

His head turned and he grinned. "Hi, guys." He whispered, his voice gravely like he had been gargling asphalt.

"Baby," Mom burst into tears – happy tears. Her fingers ran through Edward's greasy hair. "Your voice is music to my ears."

"I'm so glad to hear you talking, son." Dad said and clapped Edward on the shoulder.

"I'mglad." He inhaled, the noise sounding arduous as he sucked air in between his teeth. "tobetalking."

"Alright, Sylvester Stalone." I teased. "Don't stress yourself out."

"I'm in agreement." The therapist said as she stood up and started to grab for the ventilator tubing. "I think your lungs did great, but they need a break now."

"Wait," He inhaled, his hand slipping into Mom's. He looked at her, his eyes shining. "Iloveyou."

Mom pressed her lips to Edward's forehead as the therapist snapped back on the tube. "You have no idea how elated I am to hear you say that." She breathed, her face still moist with tears. "My sweet baby boy."

* * *

 _March 7, 2014_

"You should've see this guy, Edboy." I said as I moved my Parcheesi piece on the board. "He had no arms _and_ no legs."

Edward was off the trache – a new addition to his routine that consisted of time off the ventilator, the opening capped and an oxygen mask on. After that first day, it started once every six hours for thirty minutes at a time while he was awake. He would sit and consciously inhale and exhale, with all of us watching like hawks to make sure all of his numbers stayed good.

Today they decreased the time to once every four hours. This was his second round.

"Isn't that a joke-,"

His fingers gripped the dice, but he didn't move to roll them. Instead his eyes snapped to the ceiling and his cheeks lit up red. I listened to his breathing hitch and worry laced through me.

"Are you okay?" I rose to my feet to hit the call button for the nurse. Mom and Dad had gone down to the cafeteria to take a phone call, since they had been playing phone tag with the insurance company all day, leaving me alone with Edward.

"I'm okay." He inhaled deep, ragged breaths. "I still have eight minutes."

"It's okay if you need to go back on it early." I assured.

"Eightmoreminutes." He breathed.

I watched the muscles around his eyes tighten and his pupils sharpen with pain. I ignored him and hit the call button anyway. A nurse answered it a couple of moments later

"Are you in pain?" The nurse asked as she snapped on gloves. "Chest pain?"

Something in his eyes flashed and I watched him consider lying. _Don't you dare._ I warned in my head, hoping the twin telepathy was working today. _If you don't tell her, I will. We're not playing these games anymore._

He finally nodded, his fingers pointing where it hurt on his chest. "And my back." He breathed, his eyes closing as he scrunched his face. I watched a dribble of blood trail down his nostril and I rose, grabbing some tissues on my way.

The nurse switched him from oxygen back to the ventilator and then unwound a stethoscope and listen to him breathe. "I'll right back with some meds." She nodded.

I stood over his bed, his nose pinched between my fingers as I cleaned up his face for him with the tissue. "You were going to lie to that nurse." I accused gently, under my breath so only he could hear me.

His eyes popped open and I saw tears swimming in them. These weren't his normal tears of frustration that he went through daily when he smelled food he couldn't have or asked for a drink of water and was denied or when he writhed in bed because he was tired of sitting up. His eyes were dark and far away. It was the same look he held when he was being bullied by Sam and the rest of the La Push kids. He grabbed his white board.

 _Why is everything so hard?_ He wrote, his chin quivering. He erased it _. I feel like I take two steps forward and ten steps back._

"Edward," I said as I pitched the tissues onto his bedside table. "You got to _stop_ with the 'woe is me' crap."

He scowled and and wrote on his board. _I'm allowed to feel sorry for myself._ He turned it and wrote something else down. _After what I've been through._

I shrugged. "Sure you do." I said. "But what good is it going to do? What good is lying going to do? All you're doing is making things harder for yourself."

He tossed the board on his table and crossed his arms, shifting slightly so he was on his hip and his eyes averting to stare out the window that overlooked an IHOP.

"Edboy," I said, my fingers wrapping around his. "If you just sit here and dwell on all the bad stuff, you won't ever see the good stuff." I said.

He picked up his board, without turning. _Like what?_ He threw it back on the table.

"Like…" I got up and moved around his bed so I was facing him. "Like the fact that you have a family that loves you."

His scowl relaxed just slightly at that, but he didn't tear his eyes away from the window.

"And the fact that you beat _two_ lung tumors and are about to beat leukemia." I said. "For the second time. Like, that's seriously impressive."

I watched his lip insert itself between his teeth.

"And you just spent a total of fifty-two minutes off a machine that breathed for you, breathing on your own when the doctors were sure you weren't even going to make it three weeks ago." I said. "And the fact that the sky is blue today even though it's never blue in Seattle and it's finally warming up after wet winter and the fact that you came back to life even though you, like, _died_."

He relaxed and turned, his fingers going to his board. I watched him erase it and write down. _You forgot one._

I cataloged everything I said, confusion twisting up my eyebrows. "What?"

His grin split across his face, lighting it up like a comet lighting the night sky as he wrote on his board. He flipped it around to show me. _I get you as a brother._

* * *

 _March 11, 2014_

Mom and Dad sat on Edward's bed on either side of him their hands clasped with his. I stood next to them, watching one of Edward's machines slowly cycle through a bunch of medical mumbo jumbo. "We have some good news." Mom started. "The councils request was finally approved after months of fighting and the BIA got the funding it needs."

"That's great." Edward garbled and winced with the pain. It was determined that the pain was fluid around his lungs, so they installed a tube in his chest that drained the fluid out in a container that looked like one of those two-liter bottles of soda. His time off the trache was switched back to every six hours.

I guessed the advice I gave him from the other day got through to him. He no longer cried when he smelled the breakfast cart come down the hallway. Or begged for water. Or complained about the trache being itchy.

Instead he started making a list after asking Mom for a piece of paper. It had a bunch of stuff on there. 'Go to First Beach' and 'Eat a gigantic burger' were the first two things. I asked about it and he said it was his 'Go-Home List' or all the things he wanted to do once he was finally discharged.

"It is." Mom said, but her eyes tightened. "That means that Dad is getting his full pay back and I'm getting my job back. We'll have money again to do fun things." She looked at me. "And Jake can go back to school."

"I don't want to go back to La Push." I argued. "I want to stay here with Edward."

"I don't want you guys to leave." Edward said, his mask fogging up with his breath.

"We discussed it with your team and we think it'd be okay if we moved you to Port Angeles for your chemo treatments and to finish weaning off the ventilator." Mom said gently. "Because they think that you're going to need more time than they originally thought to get you off the machine."

"How long?" Edward asked, his fingers at his throat. If he pressed on the cap, his voice didn't sound so rough.

"They're not sure, but they think it might take more than three weeks." Mom said. "Maybe a month."

"A _month_?" Edward asked, horrified. "Another month in the hospital?"

"Baby," She said, remorsefully. "I'm sorry. I know how much you hate it here."

"They're going to go ahead with chemo because they think the leukemia is interfering with your progress. It's stressing your body out." Dad said. "I do need to get back to work. I've exhausted all my vacation days and Jake needs to get back to school."

Edward sighed against his pillow, his eyes going to his window. He rolled his lips into a pout, but I watched his eyes set in a pointed look.

"The BIA is letting me take all the time I need, so I will be with you during the day and then Dad and Jake will come in the evening times when they can." Mom said. "So, you won't be alone."

His hand slipped from hers and found mine. "It's okay." He whispered, his eyes flicking to me. "A month isn't that long."

"No, it's not." Mom said, latching onto this tiny bit of optimism from Edward. "It'll go by fast, you'll see."

"It'll go by fast." He repeated, his eyes falling to me.

* * *

 _June 20, 2014_

It wasn't a month. It was two. And a half.

Edward got a gnarly case of pneumonia that put him back on intubation for about two weeks. That plus chemo made his weaning off the machine slow. He had a lot of setbacks. It wasn't a smooth ride, but it happened. _It happened._

But, he was home now and had been for exactly seventeen days. The living room had been converted into his makeshift bedroom as Mom took over being his primary caretaker from the team of nurses, respiratory therapists, doctors and other staff in the hospital. He had a nurse that would come and make home visits and help out every couple of days. And we were getting to know the medical supply people as they came and set up Edward's medical equipment and then replaced the empty oxygen tanks with full ones.

 _He was home now._

" _Happy birthday dear Edward_ ," We all sang. " _Happy birthday to you!"_

Edward leaned forward and blew out the first candle and I helped with the other fourteen. "Thanks, guys." He said and smiled, a clear tube wrapped around his face, two nubbies in his nostrils feeding his ailing lungs a constant supply of oxygen.

He was permanently on oxygen now. He couldn't go without it. In the house, it was delivered to him via a blue machine that was as big as a small trashcan and hummed like a called a concentrator. If he had to leave the house, he took a tank. He asked for one of those little machines that you could wear as a backpack, but apparently insurance wouldn't cover one of those. At night, he went on a BPAP machine, which was kind of like intubation where the machine took over breathing for him, but it was device that strapped on his face and made him look like the Predator.

Mom cut a piece of cake and took it to kitchen to blend it into a smoothie. Edward's time on intubation had atrophied the muscles that he used to swallow, so his liquid foods had to be thickened and his solid foods had to be liquefied until he got those muscles back. He also got supplemental nutrition from a G-tube in his belly that Mom had to do every night.

 _But, he was home now._

"Open your presents!" I said as I shoveled cake into my face from my place at the dining room table.

"Hold on," Mom came back with Edward's smoothie. "I want to get pictures!"

Edward reached for his smoothie and took a sip. He had gotten so thin in the hospital that all of his old clothes hung on him like you were trying to dress a coat rack.

"Presents." I groaned. I had a surprise for him, but it meant getting him out of the house, which took like a _million_ years now, so I wanted him to hurry while the sun was still up.

"Okay," He said and pulled his beanie lower on his hat. "Cool your jets."

"No," I refused. "Hurry up."

"I can't." He said and reached for the first present, his crooked grin spreading over his face. He went deliberately slow just to goad me. "See?"

"I will come over this table so freaking fast, Edboy." I stood up, jostling his cake smoothie.

He ripped into the paper, pulling out a little box.

"Now, it's not _new_." Our mother said, her eyes shining as she watched Edward open the box. "But, it supposedly holds _a ton_ of music according to Emily, so…"

He pulled out an iPod Classic. His eyes widened into large discs. "An _iPod_?" He almost screeched. "This is so _cool_." He clicked it on. "These hold like a hundred and sixty gigs of music. That's an _insane_ amount of songs." He wobbily got to his feet and Mom and Dad came over and gave him hugs. "Thanks, you guys."

He adjusted his beanie over his white bald head and sat back down, pulling over his second present.

"That's from Rebecca and Liam." Mom said as Edward opened his second present.

It was an ukulele. He smiled and strummed it. "This is awesome." He grinned.

"Okay," I stood up, the chair making a yeti-like noise as it scraped back. "My turn. Get your shoes on, Edboy."

"What?" He looked at me confused.

I pulled him up by the elbow and he jerked to his feet and teetered a little.

"Be nice, Jacob." Mom said in a warning tone.

Edward walked around the house at a snail-moving-in-slow-motion – his only speed setting now – his breaths getting heavy as he put on his shoes and jacket, even though it was June and hot out, since he was always cold.

While he got ready, I got his oxygen tank ready – cracking it with the wrench and affixing the regulator on it like the medical supply person showed me – and slipped it into it's metal holder that hung off the back of his wheelchair.

"Where are we going?" Edward asked as he settled himself into the wheelchair, attaching the cannula to his face.

I glanced at Dad, who was in on it. "You'll see."

We drove to First Beach. Perfect timing. I thought as I watched the sun start its descent towards the edge of the water.

Dad parked and I pulled out the wheelchair from the bed of the truck and helped Edward into it. I drove him – while making NASCAR race car sounds _of course_ – up the edge of a cliff, following a foot-beaten pathway that was just wide enough for Edward's chair's tires.

I finally got up to where I had planned to give him his present – the same cliff we jumped off of last summer. It had a perfect view of the sunset, which was painting the sky up with purples and oranges and reds, turning it into a painting.

"There you go," I motioned to the Pacific. "Happy birthday."

"I don't get it." Edward looked at me, his eyebrow-less eyebrows twisting in confusion.

"It was on your Go-Home List." I said. "'Go to First Beach,'" I motioned around the cliff we were on. "Well, this is the best view on First Beach."

"Oh," He looked back at the water.

"Do you not like it?" I felt a weight of disappointment in the pit of my stomach. _I know it's no iPod…_

He shook his head. "No, Jake." He breathed, his eyes going soft and misty. "I love it." He looked at me. "Help me up?"

I put the brakes on the chair and helped him to his feet. We both sat down at the edge of the cliff, watching the sun slowly set behind the horizon. Twilight.

Edward's arm came and looped over my shoulder. "This is beautiful." Edward said. "Thanks, Jake." He said. "I'm lucky to have you as a brother."

I looked at his face – at the tube that was permanently there now helping him breathe and the dark circles and his bald head he hid under a hat. All the ways cancer had affected him. But, I saw his crooked grin and his freckles that were popping out in the sun after months of hiding and his green, bright, _alive_ eyes.

"Anything for you, bro." I breathed back, watching the first stars pop out of the night sky, thinking that he was wrong, that I was the lucky one.

* * *

 _April 13, 2017_

Bella and I headed for the Emergency Room, finding Dad there, his normally calm face twisted into panic as he paced around the waiting room.

I bounded up to him. "What happened?"

He shook his head. "She was T-boned by a drunk driver in an intersection." He said.

"Is she alright?" Bella's brown eyes were wide discs.

"I don't know yet." Dad ran his fingers through his hair. "They haven't told me anything. She just ran to Walmart to get some things." He said, his head shaking. "It's five minutes away."

I rubbed my forehead, panic churning my stomach like an angry maelstrom. _You can't take both Mom and Edward, right?_ I bartered with God as I prayed. _You wouldn't do that to me, right?_

"There's no use standing around like this." Bella said, her hand on my arm. "Why don't we take a seat?"

I was led by my elbow to a chair and I sunk down into it. _This can't be happening_ ricocheting around in my head like it was shouted into an echo chamber. I couldn't even begin to fathom losing both Mom _and_ Edward. I choked back a sob. _No, she's going to be okay. She has to be._

"Hey," I heard a voice and looked up, thinking it was a nurse coming out to update us on Mom.

I looked up to Alice and her boyfriend – this tall blond guy with an amputated arm. She looked at us both, her face twisting with remorse and her eyes – the same color as Edward's – flashing at the both us.

"Alice?" Bella rose to her feet. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought about what you said." Alice said, her fingers twisting together. "It's fucked up how I treated you guys. I'm sorry. I actually know what's like," Her eyes turned to her boyfriend and they went soft with adoration. "To fight for someone you love. And I've haven't had a very good childhood." Her boyfriend rubbed her shoulder in comfort. "But, it's not right for me to take that out on my…" Her eyebrows furrowed. "Brother." She said the word in disbelief. "I want to help, if I can."

"You're…" Dad started, his eyes wide. "Edward's sister?"

We haven't told him anything. I realized, my eyes going wide. "Yeah, Dad." I started, the words tumbling out of me. "This is Alice, Edward's twin sister." I motioned to her. "This is Edward and I's Dad, Billy Black."

"Edward has a _twin_?"

Alice grinned. "Apparently." She stepped forward and hugged Dad. She stepped back. "This is Jasper Whitlock, my boyfriend."

"Nice to meet you." Jasper said with a little nod.

"Wow." Dad put a hand on his head. "Wow. Oh my God." He sat down and looked up at me. "Do you know what your mother's going to say?"

I flinched and looked towards the double doors that led into the . "She's probably going to be overjoyed that's she'll have another child to love on."

"Your mom was in a car accident?" Alice said and sunk down next to Bella. Jasper took a seat next to her, his jaw setting as his eyes fixed on the front door. "Is she okay?"

"We don't know yet." Bella breathed, her fingers lacing together.

"And where's Edward?"

"He's…" Bella shot to her feet, her eyes wide. "Do you know when the last time someone checked on Edward?"

"He was sleeping when I was called about Sarah." Dad said. "They hadn't removed the intubation yet. They were going to wait until he wakes up."

"I'm going to go check on him."

"I'll come with." Alice said and got to her feet too and Jasper rose up with her. "I want to meet him."

"I'll stay here." I managed, swallowing the lump in my throat. "With Dad."

"We'll be right back." Bella's hand was on my shoulder. "She's going to be okay, Jake. Okay?"

"Okay." I said as I looked into Bella's brown eyes shining with conviction and, sucked in a tiny bit of air before the storm threatened to pull me under again.

* * *

 **I haven't abandoned this story! I promise! I had some writer's block lol the intense parts are hard to write! I also kind of stopped getting reviews, which are a big motivator for me. So, I did some non fanfiction stuff while I worked through my writer's block like:**

 **-Worked because I'm an adult that has to do that, unfortunately.**

 **-Went and saw "Burn the Stage" because I'm a gigantic kweeb for BTS**

 **-went through my socks**

 **-cleaned my guest bathroom**

 **-made tamales for Thanksgiving**

 **-got drunk on wine coolers and binge-watched _Riverdale_**

 **I have 2 chapters left and then this fic is donezo! But, like, be patient because the intense stuff takes a moment to make sure it is perfect for your eyeballs to enjoy. Also, review!**


	32. Chapter 32

_Edward_

 _April 13, 2017_

 _Nobody tells me anything._

I glared at the light above my bed as those words tumbled over and over in my mind, my fists balling. It was bad enough that they wouldn't tell me what was _really_ wrong with me. But now, Dad wasn't even in the room anymore, but of course I didn't know why. I was kept in the dark. I was always kept in the dark.

"Are you okay, hun?" The respiratory therapist asked above me said when she noticed my expression.

I just nodded. There wasn't anything else I could really do when I was intubated. I couldn't move or speak or inhale. I was leashed to the tube that was jammed so deep into my throat that I wanted to gag on it, but couldn't. I wanted to panic around it, but couldn't. I wanted to breathe – inhale deep breaths in through my nose and out of my mouth – but couldn't.

 _Nobody tells me anything._

I felt myself scowl. I knew it was bad. It was my body. I could _feel_ it was bad. Actually, it felt all too familiar – the crushing fatigue and the deep aches in my chest and the feeling of being drowned in my own body fluids. But, they said it wasn't lung mets. I didn't have lung mets again. So, that was something.

But, the cancer was back.

I felt my eyes slide shut _. It was back._ This was the fourth time cancer had come. The _fourth_ time the grim reaper has come to claim me. Every time it has come as a shock. A blow like an unsuspecting punch to the face. I don't know why, anymore. It always came back. Like one of those toy clowns with the sand in the bottom. You punch it down to only watch it pop back up, ready for more.

"Okay," The RT said – a lady with red curly hair and a nametag that red 'Vicky.' "I'm going to pull the tube." Her eyebrows were twisted in concern.

This time, I decided cancer could have me. We were playing fate by trying to fight it, anyway. I was just appealing my sentence that had already been sealed the first time I got a nose bleed.

So, I asked to be taken off of ventilation, whether my lungs couldn't handle it or not. I knew I could probably go at least a couple of days. A couple of days of 'I love you's and 'I'll miss you's. A couple of days of goodbyes.

Dad fought me, of course. Mom wasn't in the room when I asked, probably for the better. I didn't want to see her heartbroken expression. I already put her through that once. But, this is what I wanted, even though the weight in my stomach and the voice in my head said I didn't want to die. This was for the best.

The therapist unhooked the Velcro strap that kept the tube in place and pulled the air out of the little bubble that kept it lodged in my throat with a syringe. "Pressure." She warned and the tube was extracted, my gag reflux going with it.

She quickly affixed an oxygen mask around my face. "Deep breaths." She instructed and I inhaled on her command.

I grunted, my eyebrows furrowing with concentration as my tight chest felt like it was being tied up and squeezed with chains. _Inhale_. I coached myself.

"How are you feeling?" The respiratory therapist asked.

"I'm," I wheezed, my voice rattly. "Okay." _Inhale_.

"Okay," The RT nodded, her eyes going to the screen above my head and her hand going under mine to level out the pulse oximeter clipped on my fingertip. "You're leveling off at around ninety." Her eyebrows furrowed. "It's not good, but it'll be okay." She sighed. "For now."

I closed my eyes, and focused on breathing. Inhale and exhale, even though it felt like all the air had been vacuumed out and I was floating through space. _Where's Bella?_ She had come earlier, but then she left. She said she had a plan that would help me. Her voice was desperate.

The ache in my chest increased as my lungs overexerted them.

I just wanted to hold her. I wanted to

I wanted to tell her goodbye and that I was sorry.

"Edward," Bella said.

I opened my eyes to Bella and felt myself smile, despite the pain. "Hey," I greeted, feeling my mask fog up. "I was just," inhale. "thinking about you."

Her fingers fell across forehead, pushing my hair out of my face. My hair wasn't as long as it was at the beginning of the school year, but it was almost there. "Hey," She breathed back, her forehead finding mine since she couldn't kiss me.

"Are you okay?" I asked between breaths as I looked at her ace-wrapped arm.

Her face twisted with confusion. "Yeah, Edward. I'm fine." She eyes traced to my sheet. "I'm sorry I left you in the woods." Her voice cracked with tears.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second as I breathed through the pain. I tried lifting my arms, but I couldn't muster the strength. "Can you, like, come here so I can hold you?" _Inhale_.

She nodded and dropped the roll bar so she could sit down on the edge of the bed, her head finding my shoulder. "It's okay." I said as I traced my fingers down her arm. "Something would've happened anyway."

"But," She started. "If I didn't leave-,"

"Shhh." I said. "Just sit her with me, okay?"

"Okay." She nodded, her fingers tightening around my hospital johnny.

I closed my eyes. This was it. _Heaven_. Despite the pain in my chest and the fact that there was never enough air. Heaven wasn't a place in the sky that you go when you died. No. Heaven was the moment you felt the most _alive_. And for me, it was always when I was with Bella, our heartbeats synchronizing with each other.

I made a contented noise. "I wish I could stay here forever." I breathed.

"In the ICU?" She asked incredulously.

"No," I snorted. "With you, you donut."

She giggled, which dissipated like smoke. "You can, Edward." She whispered.

I shook my head. "No, Bella." Something wilted inside of me as I rounded out the words. "I can't. I'm dying." I sighed. "Nobody's really told me how yet." _Inhale_. Wince. "But, I am. I can feel it."

She shifted and I opened my eyes to her face inches from mine. I could see the crazed desperation that was in them from earlier. They turned the deep wells of soft brown hard like petrified wood. "No," She said, almost spat at me. "You're not. Not with me, you're not."

"Bella," I felt my eyebrows furrow and tears mist in my eyes. "I can't-,"

"No," She said and inhaled a deep breath. "We found your dad. Your…biological dad." Her words came tumbling out so fast that following them made me dizzy. "With the birth certificate that was left with you when he dropped you off at the fire station. Apparently – funnily enough -," A smile flitted over her face. "He works here in psychiatry. And we went to go see him, but he can't help you because he has AIDS or something – I don't even know – but apparently," She sucked in another breath so deep it was like she was bragging. "You have a twin, Edward. A _twin sister_. That means there is someone out there with your DNA who not only can help you, but is _willing_ to do so."

"I…" I let my eyes trace around her for a moment as I tried to piece everything she just blurted at me together. "I don't understand."

"We're going to save you, Edward." Bella said, getting excited. "We found your _twin sister."_

I recoiled at the thought of more chemo. Isolation. _Infections_. Losing my hair again. Getting so sick I couldn't even roll myself over in bed again. Or pooped myself again. Rashes. Pills. That wasn't living. It was barely _existing_.

Bella saw my expression and hers twisted in confusion. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "Bella," I breathed. "I don't want to go through that again." Inhale. "I _can't_ go through that again. I'm not strong enough."

"Edward," She shook her head, her fingers wrapping around mine. "Of course you're strong enough."

"No," I argued. "I'm not." Inhale. "I _know_ that Dr. Bears wants to put me on hospice."

" _He_ doesn't want to put you on hospice." Her face flushed with anger and I watched irritated tears fall down her face. " _Dr. Hot_ wants to put you on hospice-," She caught herself, her eyes widening.

 _I knew it._

Bella gave a shaky sigh. "They didn't say 'hospice'. They said 'palliative care.'"

"Tomato tomahto." I said back. "It's all means the same thing – I'm going to _die_."

"No," Bella said, her face deepening in shade. "You're. Not."

"Bella-,"

"Why," She almost shrieked, rising to her feet. I watched her run her fingers through her dark hair as she paced around. "Why do you want to leave me?" She pressed her hand to her chest, tears streaming down her face. "Don't you love me? Don't you want to live a long and happy life with me?"

I recoiled from her words. "Of course I love you."

"Then why are you so against everyone helping you?"

"Because." Inhale. "I'm not _strong_ enough."

We stared each other down for a moment. I shifted and winced, trying to bring the pressure off of my chest, knowing full well that no matter how hard I squirmed I couldn't

Bella's shoulders slumped and it stabbed me in the chest. I didn't want to hurt her. It's just the ending to my tragic tale. A story that jumped the shark a long time ago. She slumped back on the edge of my bed, being careful not to pinch any of the lines that fed in and out of me.

"Edward," She twisted her hands together, her head shaking. "You're the strongest person I know."

I sighed through my nose and shook my head, averting my eyes to the other side of the room. "What if it doesn't work? Like your bone marrow didn't work?"

"It's going to work, Edward." She said lowly, just above a whisper. "It has to."

We were silent for a long moment. I couldn't answer her, because I didn't know what that answer was. I didn't want to leave her. _Of course_ I didn't want to leave her. She made life worth living. But, at the same time, I couldn't survive more chemo. I already became a ghost once and came back. I don't think I could get lucky thrice.

"Will you at least meet her?" Bella asked with a sigh.

I looked back Bella, my eyebrows twisting up. "Who?"

Bella gave me a pointed look. "Your _sister_ , Edward."

* * *

 _April 13, 2017_

I straightened myself in bed a little, which was comical because I was already sitting almost ninety degrees to help my shitty lungs do their shitty job and watched Bella go to the door and call someone in.

I watched Bella come back in with a girl that looked like she was built like a ballet dancer, but dressed like she worked the front counter of a Hot Topic, her hair cut short and dyed the kind of black and glowed blue in the light and her eyes rimmed with heavy eyeliner. Bella hung back near the door, with a guy with longish, blond hair.

I tried to wrap my head around my biological family. _Me_ having _biological_ family. Sam Uley said once in the ninth grade that I was an abortion that happened to crawl my way out of the Planned Parenthood dumpster. My mom said I was a gift from God for her. Jacob always joked that my parents must've not been too read up on history to leave a white kid on an Indian reservation.

I had always assumed that my parents were teenagers or something – caught in a corner, desperate and unsure what to do. It seemed fitting. And believing that it kept me from being curious about them. Even during the period where I deluded myself into thinking my _actual_ family was going to kick me to the curb.

I don't know if it comforted me or not knowing that I had a twin. There were two of us that were mistakes brought into this world. Not just one.

But, here she was, standing in front of my hospital bed. And as I looked at her face, I realized we had the same noses. And the same eyes. She was _really_ my sister.

I licked my cracked lips. "Hi," I said, my eyebrows furrowing. How do you introduce yourself to someone you once shared a womb with? "I'm…Edward?"

She looked torn – half excitement, half apprehension. She couldn't believe I existed either. "Hi," She said, her eyes tracing around my hospital room. "I'm Alice, um Brandon." She jerkily pointed to the chair next to my bed. "Can I sit?"

"Yeah," I said. "Of course."

She did, sliding her woven purse off of her arm and setting it on the ground. She tapped her knees with her hands. "Are you allergic to kiwi fruit?" She blurted.

I nodded. "Yeah," I said. "It makes me throat itch."

"Me _too_." She leaned forward, her eyes wide. "That's so crazy to think about."

"Yeah," I agreed.

"I read in my horoscope this morning that someone unexpected would come back into my life." She giggled. "I thought it was going to be this clerk at Walgreens that likes my tattoo or, like, this crazy foster sister I had that likes to hit me up for crack money about once every three months." She grinned. "I'd never thought it be my _actual_ brother."

"You weren't…" I felt my eyebrows furrow. "Adopted?"

Her expression fell a little bit and I watched her absently finger a scar on her arm. "No," She shook her head. "I was in the system since, well, I guess since I was born. I emancipated myself last year on the grounds that my last three foster families abused me in some way and that I've held a legal job since I was fourteen."

"Oh," I said, my eyes going to my lap. "I'm sorry."

She snorted. "You're in the _hospital_ with, like, _cancer_ and you're _sorry_?"

"Is that not-,"

A machine squealed at the same time a shooting pain struck me like lightning in the chest, radiating up into my shoulder. I sucked in a hard breath and twisted to watch the screen above my head flash to let someone know that my sats were dropping to unsafe levels.

I started counting down in my head.

 _3…2…1…_

Vicky the Respiratory Therapist bustled herself into my room. "Are we taking deep breaths, Edward?"

"Yes," I said mid-inhale, my hand over my scar.

She poked at some screens and the squealing stopped and I felt the flow of oxygen increase in my mask. Which would've been great if my lungs knew how to do their _fucking_ jobs.

I glanced up to Alice as the RT watched my sats slowly climb their way back up. Her eyes were wide as she took everything in. Finally, the RT left, satisfied that I was circulating enough oxygen in my bloodstream to not cause panics anymore.

"Sorry," I said and dropped my hand. "My lungs like to forget they're lungs sometimes."

"Is that the cancer?" She whispered.

"It was." I said. "It started in my blood and spread my lungs in freshman year."

"And now it's back?" She asked, trying to piece it together. "That's why you need bone marrow from me?"

I nodded. "Well," I said, looking towards Bella who was having a polite conversation with the blond guy. "That's what they want to do, at least."

"You don't want to do it?"

I kept my eyes on Bella, feeling my stomach tie into knots. "It's not that I don't want to do it," I said. "I'm just not sure if I _should_."

There was the sound of… _drums_? Rhythmic pounding We both looked towards the door of my room as the pounding grew louder.

"Good grief," Alice said. "Are they starting a sacrificial ritual out there?"

I sighed, knowing exactly who could make that much noise on a quiet ICU hallway. "It's my brother."

He appeared at my door, his dark hair a stack over his forehead and his black eyes wide. "Mom's woken up." He said.

I felt my eyebrows furrow in confusion and I looked up to Bella, who had moved to my side. "What's going on?"

But, Bella wasn't paying attention to me, her eyes were on Jacob. "How is she?"

"She went awhile without oxygen." Jacob said.

Horror flashed through me. Did something happen to Mom? "Guys," I breathed. "What's going on?"

"What are they saying?" Bella asked.

"She's really out of it." Jacob said. "She broke her clavicle and her wrist."

I felt heat rise to my face. _Nobody tells me anything._ I inhaled a deep breath, as far as my lungs would go in their tight space and then held it. I felt my hands tighten into frustrated balls.

"Brain death starts five minutes without oxygen." The blond guy said.

"She's asking about Edward." Jake said.

"You should go-,"

Three machines started to squeal once at the same time my lungs started to loudly protest from the lack of air. One wailed above my head from my racing heart, the one to my left tell me my sats were dropping and tone probably monitoring my carbon dioxide output.

Everyone's eyes flashed to me, the conversation stopping.

"Edward!" Bella's hands were on me. "What's wrong?"

I sucked in a deep breath now that I had everyone's attention. I felt a trickle of blood start its way down my nostril from the exertion. "What." I inhale. "Is. Going. On?"

Vicky came in, eyeballing the group of people around my bed. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." I said. "I was holding my breath."

" _What_?" Bella screeched. " _Edward_."

"What is going on with Mom?" I looked at Jacob.

The RT gave everyone a warning glance that said _I'm not afraid to kick you guys out_ before turning and disappearing out the door.

His eyebrows twisted up. "She was in a car accident, bro." He said. "She's down in the ER."

A chill ran through me. All the heat in my extremities raced their way to my center. " _What_?" I squeaked, my heartbeat thrumming hard in my chest. "Is she okay?"

Jacob shook his head. "I don't know. Apparently she has a really bad concussion and it's putting a lot of pressure on her brain and-," He cut off. "What are you doing?"

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, one hand on the lowered roll bar and the other on my face mask. _Nobody tells me anything._ I thought. _So, I'm going to figure it out for myself._

"Edward," Bella said, her hands on my shoulders. "Get back into bed."

"No," I said. "I'm going to see Mom."

"Edboy," Jake said. "Don't be _stupid_. Get back into bed."

"No." I snapped. "I'm going to see Mom."

"Edward," Bella said. "We don't have a wheelchair. We have no way-,"

"I can help with that." A new voice said.

We all turned to a blond guy in late thirties. He wasn't in the scrubs of the ICU. I had all the colors memorized – RTs wore dark red, nurses wore indigo, attendings wore the minty green, nursing aids wore purple. He was in a button down shirt and tie, his blond hair fingercombed off of his forehead and a contrite look on his face.

"Dr. Cullen," Bella said.

Alice's face just twisted into a scowl, her cheeks flaming red and her freckles popping out. The blond guy with the one arm - her boyfriend I presumed - reached out and placed a

"I can get a wheelchair." The blonde

"Edward can't go without oxygen." Jake said.

"I can probably find a tank." He said quietly.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" I breathed, feeling an invisible weight on my shoulders drag me down from holding myself up on the edge of the bed. "Before I _literally_ keel over and die."

"Edward," Bella's fingers covered mine. "This is Carlisle Cullen, your, um, biological dad."

* * *

 _April 13, 2017_

It was decided - on my insistence - that I go down to the ER.

We had to do it on the down low. The ICU staff, apparently, didn't like their patients wandering off unmonitored. Especially ones that were coughing up blood twenty-four hours ago.

I unhooked myself from all the heart monitors and Dr. Cullen shushed the machines so it wouldn't alert the staff that I was falling off the grid for a little bit. I was maneuvered by the blond guy – whose name I learned was Jasper – and Jacob into a wheelchair and my shitty lungs were hooked up to a mini-concentrator that Dr. Cullen filched off of the physical therapy

As we descended in the elevator, everyone crowded around my wheelchair. I looked at everyone's faces.

I started with Bella, her fingers were curled around my IV pole, watching the computer screen cycle, and she chewed on her lower lip. I looked at Jake, whose eyes were distant and set, his eyebrows furrowed into anxiety.

And then I looked at my family that I didn't know even existed until an hour ago. Carlisle to my right – my _biological_ father - his lips parting like he wanted to say something and then he would close them and look at his shoes. And then, Alice, who was my _sister_. I had a _twin sister._ I had a million questions in my head. _Why did you give us up? Where is my biological mother? Did you miss us? Did you think about us? Did you think to find us? Why wasn't Alice adopted? Why did she end up a foster kid and I didn't?_

But one overshadowed them all. One rang like a gong into every corner of my mind.

 _Is Mom okay?_

I nervously ran my hand over the machine – Lenny 2.0 – on my lap feeding me oxygen, trying to prepare myself for the worst. I couldn't even imagine what I would do without my mother. Her warm, brown eyes popped into my head and I almost audibly gasped with sobs at the thought of her _dying_.

Dr. Cullen blazed the trail once the elevator opened, using his keycard to open up locked doors with the tumblers. Everyone formed a halo around me to hide me, I guessed. Or – I don't know – protect me? I scowled. _I don't need protecting._

The scowl melted and I chewed on my lip as _I need my mother._

The ER was a madhouse compared to the ICU. I guessed they purposefully kept the ICU peaceful because it promoted healing, or something, but everyone rushed around the ER, staff members running as they put out medical fires as they happened.

We found Dad standing just outside a curtained partition that matched the other twenty that made up the . His eyes widened when he saw me. "Edward," Dad said, he looked a. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see Mom." I said. "How is she?"

His lined face became grave and something sunk in my stomach. "She's awake." He said. "But, there was a lot of pressure on her brain from the accident and they don't know how she's going to fair."

"Can I see her?"

He exchanged a look

I scowled and grabbed the wheel of the wheelchair and pushed myself forward _. I don't need protecting._ Echoed in my head.

"Mom," I breathed.

She was on the bed, a million lines running from her. She looked like me after an emergency and I started to understand why everyone got so upset when I had to go to the emergency room. It was scary seeing her like this. Absolutely chilling.

Even though I wanted to look away, I forced myself to take stock of the damage. Her arm was splinted and bandaged. She had bruises and scrapes on her face. And a big gash in her head, blood matting into her long, black hair.

"Baby," Her eyes fell on me from where she was focusing on the ceiling.

"Mom," I was pushed by someone to her bed and I grabbed her hand. "What happened?"

She rolled her eyes like everything was annoying her. "This drunk driver T-boned me when I was trying to go to Walmart." She said and then winced. "What are you doing out of bed?"

I felt tears prickle my eyes. "I came down to see you."

"Oh, baby." She breathed. "Your lungs-,"

"I'm _fine_." I assured, my hand tightening around hers. "I wanted to be here for you." I whispered. "Since you're always there for me."

Her hand came up and banished the tears on my face. I watched her eyes go distant, hazy like she was fighting unconsciousness. "You're my boy. My sweet boy. I will _always_ fight for you."

 _I will always fight for you._ I looked down at our clasped hands. She would fight for me. She has fought for me. With every breath and every fiber of her being, she was there fighting as hard as I was against the dangers in my own body. _Why can't I do the same for her?_

I looked up to see her eyes closed.

"No, Mom." I cried. "You have to stay awake."

"I am." She breathed, her eyes opening. "I am."

I tried to think of something to talk about, something to keep her from slipping from me. "They found my sister." I blurted. "My _biological_ sister."

Her eyes popped open at that. "What?"

"I have a twin I was separated from at birth." I nodded. "Her name is Alice. She's agreed to give me bone marrow to fight the cancer."

Mom's head perked up. "Bone marrow? They're going to save you?"

I nodded. "That's what they said."

"Oh my God." Mom breathed, her eyes starting to roll again. "Another child. A _girl_. What a _blessing_."

"You have to stay with us, okay?" I said, cupping her hand in mine. "I promise to fight if you promise to fight, okay?"

"Okay, baby." She nodded, her eyes sliding shut. "I promise."

 _I promise to fight if you promise to fight._

I started to cough, my lungs finished with supporting me and I watched a spray of blood fly from my mouth and hit everything in front of me, including Mom's hand I was holding. My heart started to pound in my head and everything started to swim around me, turning foggy and white.

"Edward," Bella was at my side.

I looked up into her worried brown eyes. "I think I need to go back on the vent." I managed before I blacked out.

* * *

 **Heyoooo! Fam! Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate thanksgiving lol I am thankful for you lovely readers and Stephanie Meyer's shit use of metaphors. Destroying angel? Really? Anyway, we have ONE more chapter! WEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!**


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